


Through the Ups and Downs (a rough draft)

by GraveSites



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Angst, Arguing, Ballet, Character Death, Dancing, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Frerard, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sad, Self Harm, Student!Gerard, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Wedding, dancer!gerard, long fic, teacher!frank
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 10:27:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 57
Words: 129,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5623840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraveSites/pseuds/GraveSites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is a ballet dancer, Frank is the teacher, their relationship grows, their lives change, and they stick together through the ups and downs over the course of years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Could It Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, which is why it probably sucks. Anyways, I just want to say (hopefully without spoiling it) that they don't stay teacher/student forever, they don't stay in the same place, it's really just the story of a couples' lives so it changes. I haven't finished writing it yet so I don't know how many years the timeline will be by the end but I know it will be at least two.  
> Follow me on tumblr, [graveboyy](http://graveboyy.tumblr.com/)  
> Hope you enjoy

MARCH

Photos of dancers lined the walls of Mrs. Kovlov's office, most of her students went off to large and prestigious companies after graduating from her dance studio. Frank was a teacher there, he'd known her since he'd moved to New York to live with his aunt after being kicked of his parents' house for being gay a couple of years ago. 

Being a kid with nothing to do, Frank found himself hanging out at the studio while his aunt taught a few of the ballet classes. He'd picked up on some things, and before long Mrs. Kovlov was confident enough to offer him a job as an assistant. He didn't turn it down, despite his passion being elsewhere. It was a paying job at eighteen – a fun paying job in show business. He loved the adrenaline of the theatre, even if he never stepped onstage himself.

The first year of assisting went well, which led him to being promoted to teaching by himself. Frank's life was going great, until his aunt fell sick and never recovered. Even still, he picked himself up and got his first apartment, and continued teaching.

One year later, he's found himself sitting across from Mrs. Kovlov's desk.

"What is it you would like to talk about, dear?" Mrs. Kovlov asked sweetly, a faint accent finding it's way into her words. She was born in Russia and had studied ballet there before moving to the states.

"Life's been getting busier lately - with my other job and all, and that's good and bad, you see." Frank began, "It's good because that's the career I want, and it's starting to happen, but it's bad because before long I won't have the time to work here."

Mrs. Kovlov removed her glasses. Frank fidgeted in his seat, he felt guilty, though he knew there wasn't a reason to.

"I see. You're retiring at a mere twenty years old, is that right?" Mrs. Kovlov asked.

"Yes Ma'am." Frank replied, "I would like to finish this season, though, I know I can't quit three weeks out from the show."

"What do you say about one more year?" She proposed.

Frank paused, processing what he'd heard.

"I guess..." He trailed off, thinking, "Yeah, I think that would work. Just, I can only teach late classes.

"Alright." Mrs. Kovlov replied. 

Frank smiled, she smiled back and nodded toward the door, signaling for him to go. He got up and left without another word.

He rounded the corner to go down the hall, and saw a new face heading toward's Mrs. Kovlov's office. Whoever the red head was nodded politely at him and continued walking. Frank nodded back.

The doors to Mrs. Kovlov's office opened once again, her eyes flicked up to see who it was.

"Ah, Gerard, it's nice to see you in person." She stood up.

"Hi, Mrs. Kovlov." Gerard greeted.

They shook hands, and she motioned for him to sit.

"I know what you're here for, and I am sorry, dear, but I just don't think it will be possible." Mrs. Kovlov said.

"I understand where you're coming from, but I know I would be able to pull this off." Gerard countered.

Mrs. Kovlov didn't reply, she looked like she was thinking about all the ways this could go wrong.

"I promise," Gerard began, "you won't be risking anything, I won't let you down."

"You've never even danced here before, Gerard. You were at the top at your last studio, I've seen you dance, you are impressive, I'll give you that – but our next show is in three weeks. Three weeks! You cannot possibly learn, memorize, and perfect five routines in that amount of time. I'm sorry, dear, I know you would like to, but I can't risk it for the sake of the studio. There is a reputation to uphold."

The room filled with silence. Mrs. Kovlov thought she'd convinced Gerard, but he was thinking of ways to talk his way into performing. He lived to perform, he loved it. Gerard was stunning at what he did, and he knew it.

"Hear me out." Gerard said calmly, "Don't make your decision yet. Let me sit in on the classes, learn the choreography by watching, and by the time of the show I'll let you see it and then you can decide. Please? What can it hurt?"

"Fine." Mrs. Kovlov said flatly. He was right. Just sitting in, what could that hurt?

Gerard beamed at her reply. 

"Thank you so much. I won't disappoint." He smiled.

"I expect nothing short of perfection." She said.

"I'll show you one better." Gerard replied confidently.

 

*

"Afternoon, class!" Frank stood at the front of the room. The ballet class stood up from stretching and or peeled themselves off the bars to gather in the center of the room. 

"I hope you're warmed up, let's go straight into the routine." Frank clasped his hands together and began to walk over to the CD player on the table in the corner, where he kept files, discs, hair ties, the occasional pointe shoe found it's way over there sometimes. 

The dancers got in their places, and just before he could press play, a familiar red head entered the classroom, all attention immediately turning toward him.

"Sorry I'm late." He apologized.

"Better late than never. You're Gerard, right?" Frank asked.

"Yes, sir." Gerard replied, closing the door quietly and going over to the corner where Frank was.

"Mrs. Kovlov told me you'd be sitting in. Why don't you go over there and start stretching?" Frank suggested and motioned towards the bar.

It took a second for Gerard to reply, he was noticing the curious, disapproving looks from the other dancers.

"I already did, actually." Gerard replied.

"Oh, good. Well – just watch then. Join in when you feel comfortable." Frank said.

Gerard smiled, "Will do."

He propped against the bar lining the back wall. The dancers straightened up in their opening places, and Frank pressed play. He wasn't looking at the dancers as much as he was looking at Gerard. 'Poor guy,' Frank thought, 'he won't have a chance.' 

Most of the dancers here were spiteful, and cruel. Even friends talked shit about each other when the other wasn't around to hear it. It could be a hurtful environment at times. They were ruthless to ordinary new students, - Frank didn't even want to think about how awful they'd be to someone, a particularly pretty someone, who'd joined just three weeks before performing. That in itself was unheard of and jealousy seethed through them the moment Gerard walked through those classroom doors. 

The day went on as usual, with Frank only having to give minor corrections to the students. Most everyone had been dancing since they were about twelve, now most of them were nineteen. they were skilled, and toughed it out through the blisters, bruises, and broken toes. Not to mention it wasn't uncommon for chronic back pain, if you danced long enough. Hip, knee, and ankle injuries were also common. Most companies won't even hire someone over forty.

*

Gerard never really danced full out with the rest of the class, he mostly hung back, at the end of each class he would follow along. It wasn't very productive, but he was determined to memorize this choreography somehow.

At the end of class, Frank turned off the music, the dancers stopped where they were, worn out and lungs burning.

"Alright guys, that's all for today." Frank announced.

They didn't waste a moment getting out of there, they never did – all except for Gerard. He walked up as Frank was getting his things together.

"Mr. Iero?" Gerard asked.

"Yeah?" Frank turned to him.

"I know this is a lot to ask," Gerard began, "but do you think we could meet after class for additional practice, so I can catch up with everyone else?"

"Um..." Frank started.

"It doesn't have to be after class if you have somewhere to be, I'm free pretty much anytime." Gerard added.

"No, no, after class is best." Frank said. It'd only be three weeks, it's not like he'd have to help Gerard any longer than that, what could it hurt? 

"Is that a yes?" Gerard asked hopefully.

"Sure, yeah. That's a yes." Frank smiled.

"Thank you, Mr. Iero. It means a lot." Gerard said.

"No problem." Frank replied, "Starting tomorrow?"

"Definitely." Gerard said, "See you then."

Gerard quickly waved bye and exited, and left Frank alone to finish getting his things together. Frank hoped Gerard would be as hard working as he was adorable, that'd be the only way performing this close to time would be possible.

*

Frank's alarm clock blared, "Ah, fuck." He groaned, and lazily got out of bed. "Already?" He said to the clock as he turned it off, he knew it wouldn't respond. Frank walked over to the bathroom to start getting ready. 

His apartment was pretty small, but it was just big enough for him and it functioned for what he used it for. Just a place to be when he wasn't elsewhere. New York was a big city, always moving, changing, never still. Frank didn't always like that. He liked the excitement, just not the emptiness of being left alone when everyone went home and the lights went out.

Everyone was always doing something, no one had time to take a break and rest – except for him, so he filled his spare time with writing, messing around with his guitar, and casual hook-ups. He didn't have close friends, or hardly friends in general, since he'd moved. The friendliest person he knew was Ray. 

Ray Toro was a local editor in the film industry – the industry Frank was trying to break in to. If anyone in the area needed their project edited they sent it to Ray. Lately, however, people from a few states over had been contacting him, word was beginning to spread about his talent for editing. It was fantastic for Ray, but he was always busy because of it.

Frank hastily exited his apartment, he was running late and was off to the studio. The worst part of being late to class was no doubt the sucky parking. He managed, however, and was soon inside the building, his class already waiting and stretching.

"Let's get started!" He said.

About two hours went by, Gerard stayed in the back studying the dancers intently, occasionally mimicking arm movements. Eventually he stepped forward just before Frank played the music over, careful to not get in anyone's way.

"Don't fuck this up." One of the dancers, Allie, muttered under her breath to Gerard.

"Likewise." He smirked.

"The hell did you just say..." She was cut off by the music starting.

To probably everyone's surprise, Gerard managed to execute all of the choreography. It wasn't very clean, and he lagged behind on some parts, but for a first try it wasn't bad.

Gerard looked over Allie, who was glaring menacingly back at him. He would probably regret saying that later.

"Okay guys," Frank stood at the front of the classroom, "You're doing great, but it lacks passion."

The class collectively groaned.

"Oh, come on, don't give me that." Frank said, "Do you love dancing?"

There were nods, and 'yeahs' as a reply.

"Then show me. Show me how much you love it. I want energy, I want passion from this performance. You're all brilliant technically, but dancing is more than technicality. I want to see your raw emotions. This piece is about change, awakening. Show that to me." Frank said. No sooner that he'd finished speaking, Mrs. Kovlov entered the room.

"Hey, Mrs. Kovlov." Frank said.

"Hello. Afternoon class, how are we?" Mrs. Kovlov smiled and stood beside Frank.

She received unenthusiastic 'good's, and 'fine's.

"I'd love to see how well you're progressing." She said.

"I just gave them new critiques." Frank said, walking over to the CD player.

The dancers got in their spots, Mrs. Kovlov nodded to Frank to play the music. She watched with a straight face. She was always so hard to read, but that didn't stop Frank from attempting.

After the routine was over, the dancers waited anxiously for some kind of reaction. All they got was a slow nod and quiet, "Mmhmm." from Mrs. Kovlov.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and walked around the dancers, looking them up and down. Mrs. Kovlov had an otherworldly way of intimidation. Frank never understood it.

She stopped in front of one of the dancers, Ronnie. 

"Straighten your knees next time." She said sharply, and continued on to someone else. She made a point to walk past everyone. 

Once she got to Allie, she said, "You need to keep your hair neat."  
Allie tucked away the loose strands behind her ears.

Mrs. Kovlov then got to a dancer named Macy. "Remember when you dance, you dance with your whole body, down to your fingertips. I don't like seeing sloppy hands."

Finally, she got to Gerard. "I am not impressed." She said simply.

No one else had replied to her, so Gerard thought it best if he kept quiet for now.

Mrs. Kovlov returned to the front of the class. 

"Everyone else, you're doing fine. But if I may offer a word of advice, it would be to pull me in. Make me feel. People want more than just watching you dance, they want to feel something, and that starts with you feeling something."

A couple of the dancers snickered at her choice of words, to which she shot a look at and it shut them up quickly enough.

"Get life experience, put it into the dance. Carry on." Mrs. Kovlov said, and started toward the door.

Frank gave the class an 'I-told-you-so' look after she was gone.

 

*

Just as planned, Gerard stuck around after class. 

"How long do we have?" He asked, sitting on the floor to catch his breath.

"I don't know, we could get a lot done in an hour. Sound good?" Frank asked.

"Yeah." Gerard replied simply.

Frank held out his hand to help Gerard up.

"Thanks." He said.

"Sure," Frank replied, "So it looks like you know the choreography okay, let's focus on cleaning it up." 

"Okay, I wanna go over it a few times first." Gerard replied.

Without the music, they went over it slowly. Frank called out the names of the steps and Gerard executed them more and more confidently until he was comfortable with dancing all out with the music. 

The hour went by in no time with corrections here and there. Frank was impressed at how quickly Gerard picked everything up, and not only that, but he did it well. His form was almost flawless.

"Alright, it's been an hour." Frank announced.

Gerard glanced at the clock on the wall, "I see." He said lightly, "Thanks for helping me, Mr. Iero."

"No problem." Frank responded, "If you keep this pace up it's gonna be hard for Mrs. Kovlov to say no." 

Frank turned to his table to tidy up.

"Well, that's kind of the plan." Gerard smiled. "So, how long have you been teaching? No offense but you don't look old enough to teach yet."

Frank shrugged, "About two years, I'm probably not qualified to be teaching but it's a long story for another time."

"Looks like we're going to have plenty of that. See you next week." Gerard said.

"Yeah. See you." Frank replied.


	2. Rehearsal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr, [graveboyy](http://graveboyy.tumblr.com/)  
> 

Gerard laid down flat on his back, breathing heavily, completely exhausted. Frank sat beside him, and chuckled.

"You okay?" Frank asked.

"I will be." Gerard replied. He sat up on his elbows, "What can I do to improve?" 

This was their fifth rehearsal, and by now, the show was just over a week away. Nerves and anticipation were high all throughout the place. The building was alive, it's like the air was just beginning to ignite. It was always like this a week before performing.

"You're doing fine." Frank assured.

"I don't wanna do fine. I want to be the best one on the stage. What can I do to improve?"

Frank thought for a minute. He sighed, "Come on."

They both stood up.

"I like that you feel the music, don't lose that, but you need to be stronger. All of your movements flow, which is great for contemporary but not so much classical ballet. You need to be sharp and precise."

They stood in the middle of the room.

"Go to the arabesque." Frank said.

Gerard went up into arabesque, Frank immediately tried pushing him over. Gerard stumbled a bit, and giggled. Frank pushed him again, and this time he stayed still.

"Good." Frank said, "Hold that for five minutes."

"No problem." Gerard said.

About fifteen seconds went by until Gerard started giggling again.

"What's funny?" Frank smiled, Gerard's giggling was infectious.

"This is such an awkward silence and you're just staring at me."

"Sorry. Keep your leg up." 

"Right." 

Gerard did as instructed.

"So how long have you been dancing?" Frank asked.

"About fourteen years." Gerard replied.

"Holy shi- smokes. I mean, holy smokes." Frank corrected

They both laughed at that slip up.

"Sorry about that." Frank apologized.

"It's okay." Gerard smiled, "I won't tell."

"So how old are you?" Frank asked.

"Seventeen – perfect age to be a dancing queen, right?" Gerard joked.

Frank smiled. He liked Gerard's humor.

"You're dropping your leg again." He said. 

Frank placed his hand above Gerard's knee and lifted his leg up higher.

"Ouch." Gerard said.

"If it hurts that means you're doing it right. That's what Mrs. Kovlov says, anyway. I don't know how true it is." Frank said.

"Do you dance?" Gerard asked.

"No, actually." Frank replied, "My aunt did, though. She taught here for awhile and that's how I learned what I know."

Frank faced Gerard. 

"Alright, coupé into arabesque on the other side, and hold it there.” Frank instructed. 

Gerard executed the step, and as he assumed, Frank attempted to push him over again.

"I'm one step ahead of you." Gerard said.

Frank smiled, "Good. Now piqué, sharp."

Gerard executed the move, way too sharp, resulting in him nearly losing his balance. Frank automatically reached out to steady him, his hands instinctively going to Gerard's hips. He quickly backed off.

"Sorry," Frank blurted, "I totally did not intend-" 

"It's fine," Gerard said, brushing it off, "it's better than a broken hip."

"Yeah." Frank muttered awkwardly. "Alright, you can take a break."

"Cool." Gerard said.

It really wasn't that big of deal, nothing inappropriate was intended, but unfortunately with that happening a tension was set between them for the rest of the time they rehearsed. It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable tension, it was more sexual.

It was the first time Frank was feeling the tension, but to Gerard it was just a heightened feeling of what he felt before. He thought Frank was attractive and sweet, but he knew there was no chance in hell of them being together. 

The age difference wasn't even a factor in Gerard's mind, it wasn't too bad at all. But he knew a teacher would never go for it. Frank was probably very happy at his job, Gerard thought, he probably wanted to keep it up for years. Not to mention he was probably straight.

*

Gerard exited the bathroom to find that Frank was no longer in the building. He peeked outside, and saw him sitting on steps of the building smoking. Frank glanced up.

"I'll be there in a second if you wanna stretch again or something." Frank said, as Gerard sat beside him.

"I'd rather keep you company." Gerard replied.

Frank shrugged.

"Can I bum a cigarette?" Gerard asked.

"Do you smoke?" Frank asked, a weak attempt at trying to sound like a responsible adult.

"Yes, Mom, I'm sorry you had to find out like this." Gerard said.

Frank smiled and pulled a cigarette out of the box. Gerard took it, despite Frank not exactly handing it to him yet, and put it in his mouth. Gerard leaned forward until the end touched the end of Frank's, which was in his mouth, and lit it – neither of them breaking eye contact the whole time, which just increased the tension.

They smoked in silence. Frank figured the best thing to do right then was to just ignore it and not mention it.

*

"Alright, fifteen minutes left." Frank said, now both back inside the classroom, "Wanna pick up where we left off?" 

"Yeah, sure." Gerard replied lightly.

And so they did, and Gerard fell back into the same habit of getting lazy and absentmindedly dropping his leg. Frank honestly didn't find it to be that big of a deal – Gerard wouldn't have to hold that position for that long onstage but Gerard was determined to go above and beyond, so Frank corrected him each time, and pushed Gerard's leg back up to where it was almost parallel to his head.

Gerard's breathing was getting heavy, and he was sweating. He thought it'd be pretty hot if it didn't feel like his leg was about to fall off. 

Frank glanced at the clock, "Good, okay, switch legs." He instructed.

Gerard complied. His left side had always been a little weaker. It was normal, people who are right handed tend to be weaker on the left as people who are left handed tend to be weaker on the right.

"Help me out, will you?" Gerard asked.

Frank looked briefly confused.

"Push my leg up as far is it'll go." Gerard said.

Once Gerard's leg was up there he could hold it there for awhile, it was just getting it parallel by himself was the problem. He was flexible enough, just not quite strong enough.

The sexual tension had eased since the first week. Frank's method of ignoring anything mildly suggestive had worked, Gerard gave up. He didn't want to make Frank uncomfortable, as that would just make Gerard also feel uncomfortable, and the rehearsals would prove useless and awkward.

But that only lasted for so long. One of Frank's hands rested on Gerard's side to keep him from tipping over while the other hand was on his thigh, pushing. Gerard held onto Frank's shoulders, and he didn't think much about it at first, but Frank's hand felt hot and gentle, and it was on his thigh. and although Gerard wouldn't admit it, this was pretty close a fantasy he'd been having since these rehearsals started. 

Gerard's stomach started feeling a little weird. Not a bad weird – it was a good weird, a happy weird. Butterflies, as you'd call it. And he also felt – oh fuck. 

He was basically just wearing leggings as pants, not the best article of clothing to conceal a problem like the one he was getting, and it was only getting worse. There was no escaping this, and Gerard was praying for death or a miracle. There was no way he could get out of this situation without it getting extremely awkward.

Frank pulled back, and as if God in Heaven had heard Gerard's silent pleas, his cellphone went off right at that moment.

"Sorry!" Gerard said as he dashed over to where his phone lay on the table.

It was his brother Mikey. Usually Mikey never called unless it was important and Gerard was now quickly forgetting the previous events and focusing on why Mikey was calling instead of texting. 

"I gotta take this, sorry." Gerard replied, all of his words coming out almost all at once.

Frank nodded as Gerard exited the classroom to take the call.

*

Gerard sat in the lobby of the studio.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Gerard asked.

"Yeah, why?" Mikey replied.

"You don't really call unless something big is happening."

"I think your eighteenth birthday is pretty big."

That was relieving, even though it meant Gerard had completely forgotten about his own birthday.

Gerard sighed, "Oh. Yeah, I guess so." He smiled.

"So I'm thinking about leaving Monday night and staying for the whole weekend." Mikey stated.

Mikey was in college, it was about a day's drive away from home, so he lived on campus. 

"Really?" Gerard's smile widened.

"Really really." He could hear a smile in Mikey's voice.

At about that time, Frank walked in. Gerard wasn't sure why at first but Frank held up his phone showing that it was almost time to go. Gerard nodded.

"I'll see you then, bro." Mikey said.

"Yeah, I miss you." Gerard replied.

"Miss you too. Love you, bye." Mikey said.

"Love you." Gerard said, and hung up the phone, still smiling.

"Girlfriend?" Frank asked nonchalantly

"Brother." Gerard replied, "I haven't seen him since Christmas."

"Oh." 

"Besides," Gerard began, "Do you really think I look like the kind of guy who dates girls?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed, also, there will be fluff within the next few chapters.


	3. Progression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr, [graveboyy](http://graveboyy.tumblr.com/)  
> Hope you enjoy.

"Mr. Iero?" Gerard asked after Frank had dismissed him.

"Yeah?" He asked.

"Is there anyway you could like, drive me home? My mom's car is in the shop so she had to drive mine today." Gerard asked, feeling a little bad.

"How far away do you live?" Frank asked, holding open the door for Gerard as they exited into the lobby. 

"About twenty minutes." Gerard replied.

They paused at the lobby doors.

"Oh, okay. Yeah, no problem. But Gerard," 

"Yeah?"

"You've gotta stop calling me Mr. Iero." 

Gerard laughed, "Alright."

The drive to Gerard's house was pleasant. They didn't even talk about dance at all – and it turned out they had a lot of common interests. They both liked the same bands, movies, and comics, and they both learned that the other was really cool, in kind of a nerd way.

Once they'd gotten to Gerard's house neither one really wanted it to end so soon.

Gerard opened the passenger door, "So," he began, trying to find any excuse to linger, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," Frank smiled, "And then the recital. Think you're ready?"

"I know I'm ready, but it's all up to Mrs. Kovlov." Gerard said doubtfully, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"She'll let you perform." Frank assured.

"Maybe." Gerard said.

They both sat in comfortable silence for a few seconds.

"Anyway, I should probably go inside." Gerard smiled.

"Probably." Frank returned the smile.

"Bye, Frank." Gerard said as he got out of the car.

"See you, Gerard." Frank replied, and Gerard closed the door.

Frank waited until Gerard was in the house, and he drove away. He liked Gerard, but he wasn't sure in what way he liked him.

*

No one was at home now except for Gerard, as usual. He got home from dance at six, and his parents arrived sometime between seven and seven-thirty. It was one of his favorite times – Gerard had always liked solitude. He'd always been a loner.

One exception to being alone was being with Mikey, but since starting college two years ago he was only home for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and birthdays, if they fell on weekends. 

Gerard and Mikey had honestly always had a good relationship. They rarely fought, and when they did they got over it in a few days. Sometimes they'd go for weeks at a time never shutting up about god knows what this time, and then they'd go for weeks just in each other's company, not really talking. No matter what they did, they loved each other, and always confided to one another.

When Gerard came out to their parents, it felt like Mikey was more nervous than he was. Thankfully though, their parents took it well. They were put-off at first, but it didn't take longer than a few weeks for them to accept it.

Since no one was home, Gerard was free to do whatever he wanted. He could throw a wild party, run around the house naked, scream at the top of his lungs – but he opted to just go downstairs to his room and draw. Maybe even play guitar. 

He'd never been good at that. Dance took up most of his time, and when he wasn't there he was with his family or friends or catching up on homeschool, which was basically just a shit ton of homework – so there was never time for guitar lessons. He had been attempting to teach himself for awhile, but he wasn't getting very far.

Gerard sat down on his bed, a small hint of pain shooting up in his lower back. He didn't think much about it. He'd felt that a few times when he bent over lately – it was probably a pulled muscle, not a big deal.

*

Frank's plans for the rest of the day were to hang out with Ray. Ray shared an apartment with his friend, Bert, the lead singer in a band. Bert's band was local, they weren't in a hurry to make it big just yet, but he was always practicing with them.

Bert was just getting up to leave, when there was a knock on the door. 

"I'll get that." He said.

"It's probably Frank, he's supposed to come hang out." Ray said from where he was sitting on the couch.

As Ray had predicted, Bert opened the door to see Frank standing there. He smiled and waved. 

"Hey, Bert." Frank said.

"Hey man, come on in." Bert replied.

Bert stepped aside so Frank could enter. 

"Hey Frank," Ray greeted, "Get over here! It's been forever."

Frank went over and Ray stood up. Ray practically scooped him up in a big bear hug.

"Yeah, it's been way too long." Frank replied, letting go.

"Catch you guys later." Ray and Frank turned their attention to Bert, waving bye as he walked out the door.

"Seeya, man. Be safe." Ray said, followed by Frank waving back.

They both sat down on the couch.

"So, what's up Frank? How's everything going?" Ray asked.

"Uh, y'know. It's going, I can't complain. How've you been?" Frank replied.

"Good! I've been good." Ray began, "I've got this one project that I just finished up, I'm stoked for it to be out. It's like a classic horror movie, you're gonna love it."

"I can't wait." Frank smiled, "What's it called?"

"Can't tell you that just yet." Ray replied.

Frank raised his eyebrows, "No?"

"Nope." Ray shook his head and smiled.

They both knew what that meant. If Ray couldn't give any details of the film, it was a big deal.

"That's great!" Frank exclaimed.

"Right?! Man, I'm so happy. This is all happening fast and I'm so ready for it." Ray beamed.

*

Gerard heard the sound of the door opening upstairs. It was probably his mom – or a murderer – but probably his mom. He got up to go check.

In the foyer, Lisa set her purse down on the table. She walked into the kitchen, which was just off to the right. 

"Your turn to cook?" Gerard asked, walking into the kitchen. Lisa hadn't even heard him come upstairs.

"Yep," Lisa replied, "Maybe you'd know that if you didn't skip dinner so often."

Gerard just shrugged and leaned against the counter. He could never let her know that what she just said had touched a nerve. He wasn't starving himself or being unhealthy, he was just a little paranoid about gaining weight so he would skip dinner maybe once a week – if that. 

Gerard was in control of himself. He told himself that. He knew what he was doing and he knew better than to go too far. But that didn't stop him from being paranoid.

"So, tell me how class is going." Lisa said as she got things out of the cabinets to begin cooking.

"I feel like it's going well." Gerard replied.

"Are the kids nice to you?" Lisa asked.

Gerard smiled half heartedly, "Are kids ever nice to me?"

Lisa paused and sighed. "I'm sorry, honey."

She continued what she was doing and they stood in silence.

"So," Lisa said again, trying hard to think of something to keep the conversation going, "Do you like anyone?"

What kind of a question was that!? Gerard couldn't help but wonder just why parents thought that question was appropriate to ask their kids.

He started blushing, great. This was fantastic.

"No way. Why?" Gerard replied quietly and took his phone out of his pocket. Maybe if he just looked down and focused on it Lisa wouldn't see how red his face was and she'd leave the subject alone.

"Just thought I'd ask." Lisa replied simply. Even without looking at her, Gerard could sense a smile in her voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this au, Mikey is older, which may be obvious just by reading it since he's in college. Anyway, the next chapter will contain smut.


	4. Fuck Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Tumblr, [graveboyy](http://graveboyy.tumblr.com/)  
> Hope you enjoy the chapter in all it's suggestive, smutty glory.

It was always stressful the last couple of days leading up to the show, and Frank knew a good way to relieve that stress was to get black out drunk. But, since he'd rather be sober and not drunk or hung over when he needed to be focused, the next best thing was casual sex.

They went back to Frank's apartment. The other guy was named Jake, Frank was pretty sure. He actually didn't remember for sure but he didn't wanna kill the mood by asking the other guy's name right before they fucked.

Clothes were coming off the minute the apartment door was closed. Jake took off his jacket and tossed it down, their hands were all over each other and they kissed hard. Frank pulled away to lead him to the bedroom, taking his jacket off as well. 

Jake grabbed him by the waist and pulled him in tight, biting at his neck, no doubt leaving bruises. Frank moaned and tilted his head to the side. Jake pushed him forward a bit and broke away long enough to take off Frank's shirt. Frank turned to face him, and Jake kissed his neck, his collarbones, down to his chest, his stomach – Frank grabbed a handful of Jake's hair as he unzipped his pants.

"Come on." Frank moaned out, he tugged at Jake's hair and walked on to the bedroom.

None of it was motivated by a lustful passion, they were still practically strangers. But they were horny strangers, and that's what motivated it.

Jake's pants were around his ankles by the time they both laid down, and Frank's shoes and socks were off. He rolled on top of Frank and began pulling at his pants, Frank lifted his hips up so Jake could slide them down, and throw them off to the side. 

Jake kicked off his own pants, socks and shoes all in one clump, and pulled off his shirt. He straddled Frank again, grinding against him as they kissed at bit and each other's mouths.

Frank lifted his hips again and pulled his underwear down. He barely got them below his knees when Jake tried to flip him over to where he was laying on his stomach. He went willingly. Apparently that answered the question as to who was going to top. 

Sometime while Frank was getting into the current position Jake must have taken his underwear off as well – Frank felt his dick pressing up against him.

"First drawer." Frank said breathily. 

He heard the drawer open and felt Jake's body heat, he leaned back and Frank heard the sound of a condom wrapper being opened, followed by the sound of the cap opening on his bottle of lube.

Jake set the lube aside after squeezing some out on his fingers. Frank didn't need much prepping, this wasn't a rare occurrence for him. 

"Fucking come on already." Frank whined. After the flirting at the bar, and the grinding and making out in the taxi he'd been hard since before they'd got here, and god he needed this so bad.

"Alright, alright." Jake retorted.

Jake picked up the bottle of lube and squirted some out on his dick. He tossed the bottle aside like before and got up onto his knees to align with Frank.

"Ready?" He asked.

Frank nodded.

Jake thrusted in, causing Frank to moan with pleasure. Jake moved in and out, slowly.

"Oh, fuck yes..." Frank said, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Jake held onto his hips, eyes closed. Frank felt so hot and tight, it was fucking incredible. He sped up, thrusting harder, harder. Frank moaned and ached to touch himself, but he grasped at the sheets to keep from it.

The pleasure built up in both of them before long, sweat formed on both of them. Jake slowed down, and came, tilting his head back and moaning.

The sex didn't last as long as Frank had had before, but whatever. It was sex.

Frank turned so he was laying on his back, Jake licked his lips and went down on him.

"Ffffuuu..." Frank couldn't even get the word out, his dick deep in Jake's throat. 

Jake's head bobbed and Frank had one hand twisting around in his hair, the other clawing at his own thigh.

"I'm gonna..." Frank mumbled, breathless.

Jake pulled off sloppily and jacked him off. Frank's back arched, pleasure surged through his whole body as he came hard.

*

Gerard threw a hand over his mouth to keep his parents from hearing him whimper. He had music playing as an extra precaution. He jacked himself off slowly, occasionally thrusting his hips up involuntarily. He couldn't take it anymore, god he had to come – he pumped faster, he could feel the orgasm building – so close...

"Gerard!" A voice called.

Oh, fuck. Gerard inhaled sharply and sat up. That was his mom, though thankfully calling from upstairs.

"Yeah?!" He called back, pulling his pants up as fast as humanly possible and fumbling with the zipper.

"Could you turn the music down, please?!" Lisa asked.

"Yeah, sorry Mom!" He yelled, and sighed with relief. 

He did as his mom asked, and got up to turn the stereo down. He propped on the table the stereo was on with one hand, the other hand finding it's way to the button on his pants. He breathed slowly and deeply, trying to steady his breathing a little. It didn't take much for him to be on the brink of orgasm again. 

He bit his lip to keep from making a sound as he came. Gerard knew he should've probably been ashamed at who it was he was thinking about, but he wasn't. Thinking about Frank was hurting anything.

*

It was a big day – and somehow tomorrow would be even bigger. Gerard was anxious as hell about it.

"Don't stress out about it," Frank told him multiple times throughout the day, "You'll do great."

"I could do great and she could still say no." Gerard replied.

They sat down on the steps outside of the building like before, taking a break, waiting for Mrs. Kovlov. It was earlier than usual. With the show being two days from then, all of the students were scheduled to be at the studio at three PM to run through everything. 

Frank and Gerard met early to get in one last rehearsal before Mrs. Kovlov made her decision.

Frank was probably zoned out, staring off into the distance like that. Gerard looked over at him, taking in the sight of him while he was spacing. He looked really nice, especially with the way the sun was kind of highlighting him. 

Gerard's eyes moved down to Frank's pink lips, then to his jawline, and then his neck, which had a mark on it. There was no doubt about what that was. Gerard giggled quietly, but that was just enough for Frank to snap out of his daze and look at him.

"What's funny?" Frank asked, smiling. He could never help but smile himself whenever he saw Gerard laughing.

Gerard shook his head, "Nothing."

"Oh, come on." Frank said, "Something's funny or you wouldn't be laughing."

"You uh," Gerard had no idea how to word this, he looked down at Frank's neck hoping he'd understand it.

Instinctively, Frank laid a hand on his neck, and then he realized, "Oh, that."

"Yep." Gerard nodded awkwardly.

"Yeah." Frank muttered, and that's how that conversation trailed off and died.

Gerard's mind started wandering, and he kind of realized Frank probably had a girlfriend. He knew he should just drop it, talking about it further would only make things worse. It wasn't an appropriate conversation, but before Gerard could even filter himself, he was already blurting it out.

"You two been dating long?" Gerard could have melted into the concrete and disappeared for all he cared. It would've been better than this. What made him think that was okay to say to someone?

"No – I mean, I'm not dating anyone, actually." Frank replied.

"Oh." Gerard said. How was he even supposed to reply to that?

Well, since Gerard seemed comfortable talking about it, and they did seem to like each other on a friend level, Frank figured it would be okay to ask Gerard the same question. He really was curious, anyway.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Frank asked. That came out way more forward than he intended.

"Did." Gerard said, "But, we broke up like two months ago." He didn't make eye contact.

"Oh, sorry to hear." Frank said.

Gerard shrugged, "I'm not, really." He picked at a thread on his pants. "He was kind of becoming like, a habit, sort of. I didn't really love him anymore, and he felt the same way. But he was just familiar, so we just kinda went through the motions. There was nothing between us anymore – so, yeah." He shrugged again.

Frank nodded, Gerard finally looked him in the eyes. 

"Fuck boys." Gerard smiled, trying to lighten the mood, "Literally."


	5. Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but sweet... Kind of. Okay this chapter might be anything but sweet.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy.

The biggest classroom in the building was full of dancers, their voices had blended together and became a mind numbing clusterfuck of white noise, or so Frank thought.

He stood at the front of the room beside Mrs. Kovlov and the rest of the teachers and assistants. His eye was drawn to Gerard, pretty much the only person in the room who wasn't talking to someone. Gerard looked down, expressionless. 

Mrs. Kovlov clapped. "Class!" She yelled. 

Not everyone heard her, "Class!" She echoed, and clapped again.

More students looked up at her this time, and the voices dwindled down to silence.

Thank. God. Frank thought.

"As you all should know, I am proud of you." Mrs. Kovlov began, "You've worked diligently and professionally. I would expect nothing less." She paused, a closed-mouth smile spreading. She scanned across each student, "Let's begin."

The teachers were on top of things, yelling out the choreography like it was their last chance to help the dancers achieve perfection – which, it sort of was, for this term anyway. The energy in the building, the love and passion for the art of dance, was electrifying, and inspiring. It was refreshing to be around such an intense devotion.

Watching the dancers from other classes was mesmerizing. There was a certain beauty in seeing these performances in the final rehearsals. It was raw – there were no costumes or lights, nothing to hide behind. It was all laid out, uncensored. You could see the sweat on their bodies, hear their breaths and the thuds every time they landed a jump. 

Eventually, it was time for Frank's students to recite their routines. As soon as the other dancers had disbanded to the sides of the class room, which would be the wings on stage, Frank's students blended with the others, waiting for the music to cue them in.

Frank glanced at all of them to make sure they were all ready, and his gaze landed on Gerard, who was giving Frank a confused look. Frank honestly didn't have an answer for him, it wasn't his decision on whether or not he would participate in the run through.

"Mrs. Kovlov?" Frank turned to her.

"Yes, dear?" She replied.

"What about Gerard?" Frank asked, "What do you want him to do?"

"Ah, Gerard." She recalled, "Yes, I need to see his performance with the group."

"Got it." Frank replied.

He looked back over to Gerard, who was still looking at him – and nodded 'yes' to him, just as the music began.

They filed out to the middle of the classroom, and proceeded to recite the same movements for the umpteenth time. It had been muscle memory for so long, the dancers flowed through the routine. Sharp, yet smooth. Each movement was perfectly in sync and in time with the music. It seemed to go on and on – practicing in a class room. Their time on stage never seemed to last as long. It went by quickly, there never seemed to be quite enough time to be fully immersed in the moment.

When Frank wasn't observing his students, he was observing Mrs. Kovlov, looking for any sign as to whether or not she was happy with them. Rare was the day when Mrs. Kovlov had anything negative to say two days out from performing, but when she did, it was not pleasant.

After their routines ended, they filed out to the sides of the room just as they'd entered and the music faded. Mrs. Kovlov smiled faintly and patted Frank's shoulder.

Knowing her, that was a pretty good sign.

The next group took their places and Frank backed up for the next teacher to be front and center. He looked around trying to find Gerard, and saw him leaning against the back wall with the rest of the dancers. Frank kind of half waved to get his attention, Gerard glanced up.

Frank motioned with his head for Gerard to come over. 

He did – ducking through the dancers and over to Frank in the corner of the room nearest the door.

"What did she say?" Gerard asked, not sounding too hopeful.

"She didn't yet." Frank replied.

Gerard nodded, visibily let down.

"Hey," Frank said softly, "That means she hasn't said no."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Gerard replied.

He wasn't convinced, but he smiled for Frank.

*

Rehearsal was over, all of the dancers were getting their things and going home as soon as Mrs. Kovlov had announced the times for tomorrow's dress rehearsal at the theatre. It was going to last the whole day – it was always exhausting, but kind of magical.

Gerard waited until Mrs. Kovlov wasn't busy, and went up to her.

"Ah, Gerard." She smiled.

"So, dare I ask what's the final verdict?" Gerard asked.

"I thought you did well. You're determined, hardworking. You danced beautifully. I only want the best in my show." She paused, "So I'll be expecting you there."

*

"Mom!" Gerard yelled as he stepped inside the house. 

"In the living room, honey." Lisa called back, "What's up?"

She didn't even look up from her book when he entered the room.

"She said yes." Gerard replied.

Lisa looked up, "Oh, that's great. Good for you, really." She looked back to her book and the room fell silent.

Gerard felt a little let down at her reaction. Did she not care? Was she disappointed in him? Did he do something that upset her?

"I'm gonna go get changed." Gerard said, and started toward his room.

"Okay – your dad will be here any minute, by the way." Lisa said nonchalantly, returning her attention to her book.

"Okay." Gerard said half heartedly.

As Lisa said, Gerard's dad, Tim, was home by the time Gerard was back upstairs.

"Hey, Dad." Gerard smiled.

"Hey, Gerard." Tim smiled back.

Tim took off his jacket and put it on the coat rack, and stepped into the living room followed by Gerard. Lisa set her book aside.

"I'm thinking we should go out tonight." Tim proposed.

"Sounds fine with me." Lisa replied.

Tim looked over at Gerard, hanging back behind the couch, "Sound good to you? You don't have to do anything tonight, do you?" 

"No – yeah it's fine." Gerard agreed, "You're never gonna believe what happened today."

"What's that?" Tim sat down.

"Mrs. Kovlov is letting me perform Saturday." Gerard said, he was so eager for Tim's reaction.

"Saturday?" Tim echoed.

"Yeah, the day after tomorrow." Gerard said.

"What time?" Tim asked.

"It starts at five, I need to be there by four." Gerard replied.

Tim muttered a variation of an 'oh okay' and nodded. He paused for a moment, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"What?" Gerard asked. That question could mean a lot of different things. Tell him what time? Tell him he was going to perform? How much sooner could he have told him? Gerard told Tim and Lisa this weeks ago, but it seems they'd forgotten. No big deal, though, he guessed.

"This is isn't a spur of the moment thing, Gerard. We needed to know about the time in advance so we could make plans around it." Tim said seriously.

"Oh," Gerard said, a little confused still, "I'm sorry. I thought I told you already. I mean – I wasn't even sure if I would be able to perform, but I did tell you."

"I don't recall that you did, honey." Lisa chimed in.

"Neither do I." Tim said.

Oh. Gerard was sure he did. He remembered it perfectly, it was a few days before he went to see Mrs. Kovlov in person for the first time. They talked via e-mail, and she told him about all the performance dates and times and Gerard had told his parents over dinner. They brushed it off and changed the subject, but he told them.

"I did-" 

"Don't argue, Gerard." Tim interrupted.

"Sorry." Gerard replied.

"It's on us, I guess." Tim sighed, "We'll just cancel plans so we can be there on time."

"I'm sorry." Gerard repeated.

"Nope. I don't want your sorry's." Tim dismissed, "We'll be there on time for you."

Gerard nodded.

Lisa stood up, "Anyway, I'm going to go freshen up before we go out." 

"Okay, dear." Tim said.

Gerard sat down now, he took his phone out of his pocket and looked down at it to hopefully hide anything that indicated he was dispirited. He couldn't shake the thought that he did something wrong, he disappointed them. Things like that happened often. His parents would hurt his feelings, but they still told him they loved him. They did nice things for him. Gerard loved them, too, he always wanted to make them happy. He didn't understand why they acted like that, though.

But whatever – every time Gerard began to question their actions, he thought better of it. It wasn't them. It was him, surely. He was the problem. He could never do anything right, what a disappointment. He wasn't good enough and it was all his fault.

"Dad?" Gerard looked up.

"Yes?" Tim replied.

"Isn't it kinda cool that Mrs. Kovlov is letting me do this? No one's ever started classes in the last part of the term and danced in the show before. I'm literally the first person to do that because she thinks I was good enough." Cliche as it was, whenever Gerard thought about that it really made his heart feel like it was shining.

"Don't get an ego, now." Tim said, "You're good at what you do at your level. But you're no Broadway dancer, you know." 

"I know. But – never mind." Gerard's eyes were downcast, "I guess that did sound self centered. Sorry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interpret his parents however you do, what do you think about them?


	6. Pink and Red Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted an image of what I visualize them to look like  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

 

 

Anticipation, excitement, restlessness – yeah, that's pretty much all Gerard was feeling. The same went for the rest of the dancers. Final dress rehearsals always dragged on, and on, and on, but it was magical. The energy of the theatre was unlike anything else and although it was stressful, Gerard wouldn't change a thing about it if he could. The good things outweighed the stress by a lot.

 

On the other side of the production, Frank felt similar things. Later, he would be watching his dancers rehearse for the final time this term, yelling last minute corrections over the music, and then once it was over, he'd yell up to the stage managers and the folks in charge of lighting to give them instructions on how to light the stage for their performances. The dancers would dance again with the lights now as they'd be tomorrow, and after that Frank would probably ask for the lights to be tweaked or try something completely different – and they'd do it again and again until everything looked perfect.

 

But right now, he was helping out with the music department. He liked helping out everywhere he could, like now. He was up in the sound and lighting booth, getting the tracks in order so the rest of the department could be doing other things to speed up the process.

 

He hadn't seen Gerard today, but he knew he was probably around somewhere, probably being really adorable, and probably not talking to anyone. That's one of the biggest things Frank noticed in class. Not the adorable part – well, yes he'd noticed that obviously, he'd noticed a lot of things, but one of the biggest was how Gerard kept to himself. Come to think of it, the only time he'd seen Gerard strike up a conversation with anyone else was when he'd first started, and even then he only did it a few times, and the conversations didn't last.

 

"How's it going over there, Iero?" One of the workers asked, snapping Frank out of his thoughts.

 

"Not bad," Frank replied, "Hey, is there anything else I can do when I'm done here?"

 

"We'll see when you're done, things are moving pretty fast today." The man said happily.

 

"Glad to hear." Frank replied.

 

"Well, let me know if you need anything." The man said before exiting.

 

"Will do!" Frank called after him.

 

After the guy had left, Frank's thoughts absentmindedly resumed to Gerard. He hoped he was doing alright today and that none of the other dancers were giving him hell. Frank made up his mind that if he heard or saw anyone messing with Gerard he was going to intervene.

 

In fact, once Frank had finished up here he decided to go find Gerard and make sure no one was, in fact, giving him hell.

 

Frank thought that maybe he shouldn't be so protective over Gerard. He was like, what, seventeen? Almost eighteen? He was almost an adult, he could obviously handle himself. Besides, Frank had no business trying to protect him. They'd only known each other a little under a month, and sure, in that month they'd done a great deal of talking about pop culture, people, whatever – nothing really deep, and they'd been alone together a lot, but that was it.

 

Yeah, sure, Frank liked him, on a very casual, friend level, and absolutely nothing more. And Frank thought Gerard kinda liked him too – or at least didn't hate him. So he should totally not at all be feeling protective over Gerard. It's not like they were dating or anything. Frank didn't wanna date him. No way. Absolutely not.

 

They were just friends – if that. It didn't matter how sweet Gerard was, how kind he could be and how he could even make being a sarcastic diva be totally adorable. And never mind his really cute pixie-like features and the way he laughed, god that nerdy infectious laugh that Frank loved to hear, and, well, fuck. Frank didn't like admitting it, but he was pretty sure at this point, he had a crush on Gerard.

 

*

 

Unless they were needed on stage or about to go on, the dancers in the building were just milling about all around the theatre. It wasn't a massive place, but it wasn't particularly small. It seated 700 people, there was a lobby before you entered the theatre itself, and to get backstage you had to either walk onstage and through the wings, or go in through a door on the side of the building.

 

Backstage there was a wide hallway that was the length of the stage, on both ends there were doors which led to the wings, it was roomier than you'd think there. A staircase on either side led up so people on the technical side could be up on the walkways if need be, and there was also enough space to leave props on the lower level so they could be moved to and from the stage with ease.

 

Also in that wide hallway, obviously on the other side from the stage, were doors on the left side leading to two dressing rooms and a door on the right leading to a break room.

 

In the back of the auditorium at the very top was a booth about ten feet wide and eight feet deep, which is where the folks who worked the sound and lights stayed. Frank finished the music up there, and exited through the door. Unfortunately, the booth was only accessible by climbing the stairs as if you were going up to sit at the very top of the auditorium, so he had to trek all the way down those stairs. Frank personally thought it was equivalent to motherfucking Everest.

 

*

 

Gerard didn't have anything to do until it was his class's time to go onstage, and that wasn't until near the end of the day. He didn't really bring anything to do, he wasn't friends with anyone here – well, except Frank. But Frank had stuff to do and even if he didn't he probably wouldn't wanna keep Gerard company anyway.

 

After stretching and running over the dance a few times in the lobby, Gerard had pretty much planted himself in a seat in a dark corner of the auditorium. It was pretty dark all over in there, and the seats were black, and Gerard was wearing black, so he pulled up the hood on his jacket, and sat with his knees up to his chest and tried to blend in with the surroundings.

 

It worked pretty well, too. Frank figured it would make sense to look in the break room first, when Gerard wasn't there he checked the dressing rooms, and again there was no Gerard there either. He walked off the stage and into the auditorium as stealthfully as he could as to not disturb the dancers onstage. He glanced around the auditorium, there were about ten or fifteen people watching but he didn't see Gerard.

 

So that could only mean he was in the lobby. Or the bathroom – but Frank wasn't going to be weird and look there.

 

Before he could get out of the auditorium, something caught his eye. He looked over in that direction and saw a black-clad shadow figure waving subtly. Frank squinted, but with them being on the opposite side, he couldn't really make out who it was, so he decided to go over there and see what they wanted.

 

Gerard didn't really intend for Frank to come over, he was actually just waving to be friendly, but whatever. He certainly wasn't going to stop him.

 

After getting closer, Frank recognized him right away.

 

"Hey!" Frank greeted, and sat down in the chair beside Gerard.

 

"Hi." Gerard smiled, "How's it going?"

 

Frank shrugged, "Eh, not bad. I was actually looking for you just now."

 

"Yeah?" Gerard replied, turning to face him and pulling his hood off. He could feel's Frank's body heat from the next seat over and it was seriously amazing.

 

"Yep." Frank said, "Um, I was just going to make sure – I mean, none of the other students have been giving you a hard time, have they?"

 

"No, no they haven't really acknowledged my existence kind of at all today, so..." Gerard trailed off.

 

"Oh, okay." Frank said, "Well, good. I mean, not that that's good, that kind of bad actually – it's good that no one-"

 

"Frank." Gerard interrupted.

 

"Yeah?" He said.

 

"It's okay." Gerard said, kind of giggling, "I get what you mean."

 

Frank nodded and looked down, "Okay, yeah. Anyway," he looked back at Gerard, "Just, would you let me know if anyone gives you shit?"

 

Gerard didn't know how to reply at first, he just looked into Frank's eyes. You know what they say about how the eyes are the window to the soul? Gerard was a pretty big believer in it, and other than the fact that he was genuinely surprised someone said that to him, he was trying to detect any hint of dishonesty in Frank's eyes. Why would anyone say that to him?

 

Frank hoped he hadn't said anything wrong, Gerard was looking at him so skeptically.

 

"Yeah, sure." Gerard said slowly at first. Frank didn't seem like he was lying. "I'll let you know."

 

"Cool." Frank replied, and nodded mostly to himself, "Cool, okay, so I'm gonna go." Frank began to get up, and then he remembered something he'd been meaning to say. "Oh, one more thing." He sat back down, "Can I give you my number?"

 

Taken aback yet again, Gerard replied, "Of course."

 

Gerard took his phone out of his pocket, and unlocked it to add a new contact. He handed it to Frank, and their fingers briefly brushed together. Gerard watched Frank type in his number.

 

Frank's skin looked so soft, and his eyes appeared to be so vibrant from the light from the screen. Gerard had seen Frank's eyes in direct sunlight before, and they practically glowed, it was gorgeous.

 

"Here you go." Frank said, handing his phone back.

 

"Thanks." Gerard replied.

 

He looked down at his phone, and couldn't help but smile at how Frank added a pink heart to the end of his contact name. It made Gerard's own heart kind of flutter, and – hold the fuck up. Frank added a heart to the end of his contact name.

 

What was that supposed to mean? Was he just being silly, was it just like, a lighthearted thing that was no big deal? Maybe that's just the way Frank is, maybe he does that to everyone. But there was always the possibility that Frank was crushing on Gerard, too, right?

 

Okay, no, that was a ridiculous thought, and Gerard shouldn't even be thinking stuff like that, he was just getting his hopes up for nothing.

 

Frank assumed Gerard was smiling at the heart, and all he could do at this point was hope and pray to every god that he didn't fuck up just now.

 

Gerard typed something, and then Frank's phone vibrated. He took it out of his pocket and checked it. It was a text from a number with a New York area code, and the message said 'hi'.

 

It was from Gerard. Unlocking his phone to program a name to the number, Frank said, "Cool."

 

Really? Cool? That's the best he could come up with?

 

After he'd typed the last letter in Gerard's name, Gerard seriously invaded Frank's personal space, and much to Frank's surprise, with a few taps to the screen Gerard added a red heart to the end of his contact name.

He pulled back quickly, like he'd done something wrong – or at least, that's what it looked like to Frank.

 

He gave Gerard a reassuring smile, and Gerard looked up shyly at him, smiling faintly back.

 

The sounds of the theatre, the music, the yelling, the banging around setting things up, were just sort of tuned out right then, and for a second, things were alright.


	7. Repetition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!!! Before you read, this chapter could be a little triggering for some. There's a part in it with the f-slur about half way through. You're coming up on it when they're in the break room, it's in the first line of dialogue, and after that you're past it.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

 

After the cell phone number exchange, Frank had to go back to helping out, leaving Gerard alone again with a shit ton of thoughts and mass confusion, and pretty much every other emotion in the known universe.

His mind was bombarded with questions, like, what if Frank was flirting with him? Or what if he was just playing a really mean prank? Gerard couldn't really imagine Frank being such an insensitive asshole, but things like that had happened to Gerard in the past.

The most likely thing was that Frank was just being nice and he was a sweet dude. And that meant it probably just came off as being mega creepy when Gerard added a heart, too. Or Frank knew he was flirting – which, he was. But Frank didn't need to know that! Or, yeah, he did need to know that, that was the soul purpose. 'For fucks sake,' Gerard thought, 'I don't even know if he's into guys.'

Even if, on the off chance, Frank did happen to be gay, or bi, or pan, why would he ever want to date someone like Gerard?

"Iero's class! This is your first call to be in the wings!" An assistant yelled from the side of the stage. She was wearing an earpiece, it appeared that she was listening to someone speaking, and then she repeated, "Iero's class, in the wings, pronto!"

There was that increasingly familiar twinge of pain in Gerard's lower back when he stood up. He'd been putting his body under more stress than usual lately, the pain was minimal, it wasn't a big deal. So, he just tried to ignore it, and shed his jacket and sweatpants, leaving them on the chair, and walked quickly to the stage and to the wings.

Once backstage, he stood amongst fellow students, all dressed in variations of the same costume. If nothing else, they would definitely look good tomorrow.

No matter how used to it Gerard was, seeing everyone with someone, talking and laughing, always made Gerard feel a little bad. He felt like such an outcast, and so fucking alone. Always the odd man out.

"Last call for Iero's class!" The assistant yelled again.

He tried to zone out. Their stage time could not get here soon enough.

A cluster of three dancers in particular stood just out of earshot with their backs to Gerard, they'd talk amongst themselves and then turn to look at Gerard, and start laughing. Gerard figured they were laughing at him and what a fucking loser he was.

It took what seemed like an eternity or two before Mrs. Kovlov yelled from the auditorium that they were up next. The assistant, Tammy, stuck her head into the wings.

"Get ready, you're on now." She instructed to everyone.

The groups of friends broke away reluctantly and lined up in the wings.

"Don't fuck this up." Allie, the dancer beside Gerard taunted. As Gerard recalled, that was what she had said to him one time before.

"Likewise." Gerard retorted, just like before.

*

Frank sat front and center beside Mrs. Kovlov in the auditorium, feeling anxious for the dancers. He didn't have a desire to be up there with them dancing, but he felt like he was there, in a way. He was up there with them in spirit.

Frank watched all the dancers carefully. It had completely set in now that they were really performing tomorrow, this was real, and so they were dancing all out – there was no holding back.

He only had to yell minor corrections, stuff like, keep your knees straight, point your toes, don't let your hair fall in your face, nothing major – and they all applied the corrections without having to be told twice.

After the routine was over, they exited the stage, and waited in the wings for Frank to instruct the lighting department. It didn't take long, thankfully, until Tammy was telling them to get in their places again.

As usual, Frank asked for the lights to be tweaked, and they performed a third time – this time, Frank asked them to stop less than half way through to change the lights entirely, and he asked for the dancers to spread out a little more.

Here they went again – the same routine for the fourth time, a frenzy of exertion and burning lungs.

Sweating and panting, the dancers didn't even have time to return to the wings when Frank said, "That was good! We've got it!" He gave a thumbs up. "Thank you!"

By now, Gerard's back was hurting again, same place, same level of pain, but it wasn't a twinge. It wasn't going away this time. Maybe it was a muscle cramp? It was nothing. It only felt a little uncomfortable, he'd had worse pain as a dancer.

*

Gerard returned to his seat in the auditorium. There was just another hour left in the day, he figured it would be alright to go ahead and change back into normal clothes instead of staying in a glittery costume under sweat pants. He exited unnoticed out of the building and to his car to retrieve his clothes.

Backstage in the break room, the rest of Frank's dancers were snacking or just hanging out back there.

"I can't fucking believe it." Allie said, "They're really letting that faggot perform."

"It's bullshit." Macy agreed from across the room.

"I always knew the day would come when Kovlov lost it." Ronnie remarked.

Allie paused, thinking, when a revelation occured.

"Maybe it's not Kovlov." She said.

A few more ears of other dancers perked up.

"Gerard is fucking Iero." She laughed, "I'm serious. It makes sense, right?"

"Just cause two guys are gay doesn't automatically mean they're fucking." Macy said.

"No shit." Allie snapped, "Think about it. Have you seen the way they look at each other?"

The room erupted with various 'are you kidding me' groans.

"That did not just come out of your mouth, Al. You made it sound like it's a sappy teen romance." Macy said.

"I mean it. Gerard's always looking at Frank, and you can't deny for one second that Gerard gets special attention." Allie said.

"Okay, that's true." Ronnie replied.

"And they're always alone after class." Allie added, "Look, it makes sense. Kovlov wouldn't allow anything like this, ever, so there's gotta be some other reason. And who doesn't fuck someone to get what they want in the dancing world?"

Honestly, she was right. From an outside perspective that could look like what was going on, and she had convinced not only herself, but a few others as well.

No sooner than she'd gotten the last syllable out of her mouth, none other than Frank walked in the room, oblivious to what they'd just been discussing.

"Hey guys," He began, "Good work today."

He leaned against the doorway and looked proudly at all of his students.

"I know you're all gonna do amazing tomorrow, no doubt about it."

Frank smiled at them.

"Hey, um, have you guys seen Gerard?" He asked.

Allie and Macy exchanged glances, and a few people just shrugged or shook their heads 'no.'

"Alright," Frank said, "Well, I'm proud of you guys."

Frank nodded and turned to leave. That look he saw Allie and Macy share was a little... weird? He figured he should probably go find Gerard.

Once he was out of the room, Allie said mostly to herself, "I'm gonna tell Kovlov."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are enjoying this, the more I write it the more I want to write it, it's pretty easy to get sucked into the universe.


	8. Temporary Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

Coincidentally enough, Gerard was just re-entering the building when Frank popped into the lobby, and it was only then that he realized he'd never seen Gerard wearing anything other than dance related apparel until now. He looked... goth. Which was surprising, but he looked good.

"Hi." Frank greeted.

Gerard smiled apathetically, "Hey."

They stood kind of in the middle, off to the side in the lobby. It was open, a few people were around, but no one was watching.

"You did really good, by the way." Frank said.

"Thanks." Gerard replied.

He didn't seem quite as enthused as Frank thought he would be – as he normally is. Maybe he was just tired. Or worse, maybe Frank did somehow fuck up the whole phone number exchange.

"You okay?" Frank asked.

Gerard nodded, "Yeah. My back kinda hurts, not a big deal."

"What part?" Frank asked.

"Lower. It's not bad, though." Gerard replied.

"Well, maybe it needs to pop. Have you tried that?" Frank asked. 

Gerard really wished Frank would just drop the subject, he didn't like thinking about it. Maybe part of the pain was just in his head and if he didn't think about it he wouldn't feel it. 

"Yeah, I tried it, but I couldn't get it to pop." Gerard said.

"Is it alright if I try?" Frank asked, trying so hard not to cross any boundaries.

It was a really kind offer, and it probably also meant Frank would be within a very close vicinity of Gerard, and it also probably would get him to drop the subject, so everything in Gerard's mind was saying yes.

"Do your worst." Gerard smiled.

Frank couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Here, hold onto me," Frank gingerly guided Gerard's arms around his shoulders and lowered his own arms, almost around Gerard's waist, to where his hands were right on the small of his back.

This was more than Gerard bargained for – way more. But it was fucking awesome.

Their chests were touching and Gerard actually had to tilt his head to the side so that it did not come in contact with Frank's face. And Frank was so warm and being in his arms made Gerard feel secure, and – 'okay, stay in the moment', Gerard thought to himself, 'don't overthink it.'

"Okay, I'm gonna pop it now." Frank warned, and he did. He successfully popped Gerard's back by applying pressure where it was hurting and kind of lifting up.

"Holy shit." Gerard said.

"Better?" Frank asked as they separated.

Gerard paused for a moment, "Yeah – I repeat, holy shit."

Frank laughed.

"Thank you, Frank." Gerard said genuinely. Honestly, what a relief. That must've been all that was wrong this whole time, it just needed to pop.

"Any time." Frank replied.

Out of their line of vision, Allie slapped at Macy to get her to move back.

"Get back, move!" Allie whisper-yelled.

"What?" Macy said at normal volume.

"Shh!" Allie hissed at her to shut up, and finally got her moved back inside the doors of the auditorium.

The doors opened before Allie could say anything, it was Frank going back into the auditorium, with Gerard following behind him.

It clicked with Macy, and she and Allie ogled at each other.

"Did you see that?!" Allie asked, whisper-yelling again, "They had their arms around each other out there! In broad fucking daylight!"

"Oh my god, you're right, they're sleeping together." Macy said.

*

The responsible thing to do was definitely to go home and go to bed so Frank could be well rested tomorrow. But sadly, Frank just wasn't that responsible.

Instead, he was getting home late with another stranger. This guy was way more built than the last, and came on strong, so tonight oughtta be fun. Liking sex wasn't a crime, you know – and wearing himself out and crashing hard always relieved stress for Frank, and rough sex usually wore him out, and orgasms were great, so yeah, Frank liking sex wasn't a crime. 

The sex would have been amazing, and it was amazing, but there was one thing that bothered Frank, and that was the fact that he caught himself thinking about Gerard. More than once, actually. 

It had been awhile since Frank and the guy – whatshisname, had finished doing... well, each other. They were lying together, respectively on their individual sides of the bed, which was ironic considering what obscene things they were doing less than two hours ago. Frank was used to getting fucked, but he'd definitely be feeling that in the morning, wow.

"What time is it?" The guy asked.

"Clock's right there." Frank lazily pointed to the nightstand.

The guy rose up to look.

"I gotta go." He said, getting up and beginning to retrieve his clothes.

Frank sat up and looked at the clock. Great, four in the morning. He was bound to feel fantastically rested in the morning.

The guy got dressed in silence, and Frank just kind of watched him, his mind a little hazy from being tired.

"See ya 'round." The guy waved before leaving. Frank heard his footsteps going to the door, the door opening, and the door closing, leaving him alone. 

Frank liked his apartment in the city because even when he was alone, he wasn't secluded. There was always the sounds of the city right outside his window. There was still a fair share of lonely times, though. 

Back before his parents kicked him out, he suffered from depression. He still did, of course, but now it kind of came and went. He could go for weeks, months if he was really lucky, and feel okay. He was currently in the okay zone. 

Then, he'd go for the same periods of time feeling depressed, worthless, guilty, unmotivated. But yeah, when he lived with his parents out in fucking no man's land, there were no sounds, only seclusion and deafening silence when night fell. It made Frank feel so alone and insignificant. Out here, he finally felt like he was a part of something.

One thing that made him feel a part of something was that he made movies now – well, okay, currently short films, but some day he'd make movies. Frank loved his work in the film industry. Sure, he enjoyed it because it was just generally something he liked doing, but another thing that made it pretty sweet was being a part of a project of film magnitude – it made him feel a level of camaraderie and significance that he didn't feel anywhere else.

And even though it was more or less a side job now, he was making an impact on his students' lives, as well, and that felt good. He found himself hoping he was somehow making a positive impact on Gerard's life. Then he found himself just thinking about Gerard. 

The innocent glimmer in his eyes, the way his hair fell so perfectly without him even trying, his sweet smile, and the lips wrapped around that smile... and what those lips would look like on Frank's – oh, well look at that. Frank was hard again and his one night stand was probably half way across town by now. Fucking lovely.

*

One of the perks to basement life was the lack of natural light coming in from the windows, cause there was a lack of windows, and the great thing about it was that the sun light never woke Gerard up in the morning. That's what alarm clocks were for.

And today, Gerard's alarm clock was set late. He was getting every second of sleep he could in order to be at his best for the show. The last few moments of sleep were coming to a close, now. Gerard's alarm clock went off and he woke up from a good dream. A really good dream by the looks of things. 

He shut off his alarm and laid back down, sliding a hand under the waistband of his pajamas to take care of said things.

*

He calculated that it would take twenty minutes to get ready, ten minutes to eat, fifteen minutes to stretch, and twenty minutes to leave and be at the theatre at four. Gerard considered skipping the eating part, but maybe that wasn't such a good idea today. Yeah, definitely not a good idea.

Gerard was actually ahead of schedule once he'd finished stretching. He figured getting to the theatre a few minutes early could only be good, so he went ahead and got all his things together, and went upstairs to remind his parents it was time to leave.

They should've returned from their outing by now, so they were probably already set to leave again.

Things were going well so far today, and smooth, and when Gerard entered the upstairs portion of the house and checked the kitchen and living room, there was only one issue. Where the hell were his parents?


	9. Anticipation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

"Hello?" Lisa said into the phone.

"Mom? Where are you?" Gerard asked, on the verge of losing his cool. They were probably like two minutes away. And Gerard was ahead of schedule anyway. No need to panic.

"We had car trouble, honey. But don't worry, we've got it fixed now and we're on the way home." Lisa said nonchalantly.

"Oh, I'm glad you're okay. How long until you get here?" Gerard asked, playing with the zipper on his jacket.

"We're about twenty minutes away." She said.

Okay, now there might be a need to panic.

"Mom, we need to leave the house in ten minutes to get there on time." Gerard said. Lisa was an adult, a parent no less, she had to have a solution to this dilemma.

"Don't worry, you'll be ten, fifteen minutes late. I'm sure people will show up even later than that." Lisa replied.

"No one's gonna be later than four, it's a really strict place. Mrs. Kovlov runs a tight ship, I can't be late."

"It's not like she'll stop you from performing." She assured.

Gerard looked out the window, hopelessly looking for their car.

"She seriously might."

*

The lights in the auditorium were dim, the edges of the stairs glowed, and a spotlight shined in the middle of the red curtains hiding the stage. The building was on fire, metaphorically, with energy, and the employees, stage managers, and teachers were trying to settle themselves down for the show, just an hour away.

All that was keeping Frank awake, and kind of jittery and jumpy, was monumental amounts of coffee and sheer anticipation for tonight.

He wanted to be every where in the theatre all at once, and time seemed to be moving so slowly. His suit was getting really uncomfortable, and he was in a cold sweat at this point. It was all part of the nerves, it happened every time.

It was one minute 'til four, most dancers from all the classes were already there. Mrs. Kovlov wasn't the type to let tardiness slide, and if people didn't understand that before, it only took one of her tongue-lashings to get the message across loud and clear.

It wasn't that Mrs. Kovlov was cold and bitter, she was a sweet person. However, she kept her work life separate from the rest of her life. Her work life was professional. Her standards were equivalent to the most prestigious, grueling companies in the U.S., that's what gave her studio such an impressive reputation, and without a doubt the top place to be.

Outside of the studio, Mrs. Kovlov was a loving, grandmother-type. She was strict and kept her students up to a certain standard because she loved them and wanted them to succeed. Tough love was her thing, and she was good at it.

At the moment, Gerard was desperately trying over and over to call Mrs. Kovlov, but her phone was in her purse, and her purse currently wasn't with her as she was getting last minute things in order.

With Mrs. Kovlov not answering her phone, the next best option for Gerard was to call Frank, and pray that he'd pick up.

Frank stepped into the empty lobby to take the phone call. He couldn't imagine why Gerard was calling, now, especially, of all times. 

"Hello?" Frank answered.

"Hey, look, I'm so sorry but I'm gonna be late." Gerard said point-blank.

"Late? Like, how late?" Frank asked.

"Like, fifteen minutes." Gerard replied, guilt slipping into his voice.

"Alright. Is everything okay?" Frank asked.

There was just enough of a pause for it to be noticeable.

"Yeah." Gerard replied. Just a simple yeah. Frank wasn't one to overanalyze things – unless he liked someone, and Gerard's reply felt incomplete, like there was more he wanted to say. 

"Okay, just making sure." Frank said, "Did you tell Mrs. Kovlov?"

"I tried to call her but she didn't pick up."

"I'll tell her." 

"When you talk to her, please tell her I'm so sorry." Gerard asked, almost pleaded.

"Yeah, of course." Frank replied, "See you in fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Okay, see you." Gerard said, and they both hung up the phone.

Frank was now off to find Mrs. Kovlov. Because of their background, Frank got to see a side of her that no other teacher had seen. When they met, he was just a kid who hung out there with his aunt, so he first got to know Mrs. Kovlov for who she was, and not her business side. After his aunt died, she tried to console him in any way she could. She was pretty much the only adult he knew to go to for awhile.

That meant Frank could reason with her about things. In this case, he was going to kindly ask that she go easy on Gerard. Maybe she would – hopefully.

*

How was this Gerard's life right now? He could count on one hand the amount of times he'd been late to an event in his life, and now he was late to a chance that no one had ever had before. It passed irresponsible and went straight to disrespectful.

He'd asked his parents if he could just drive himself there and they could get there as soon as possible, but nope. Of course not. That just wouldn't do. Lisa and Tim insisted on driving him, and there was no talking them out of it.

Gerard fidgeted in the back seat after hanging up the phone. 

"Could you stop bouncing your leg, please?" Lisa asked, "It's making the whole car shake."

"Yes, ma'am." Gerard replied, and crossed his legs instead.

"Don't be so nervous," Tim said, "I'm sure Mrs. Kovlov will forgive you."

"I hope so." Gerard replied quietly, trying to calm down by watching the city pass by outside of the car window.

*

"Late? How late?" Mrs. Kovlov demanded.

"He said fifteen minutes." Frank recalled.

Frank had pulled her aside, they were out of ear shot in the hallway backstage.

Mrs. Kovlov sighed, flustered.

"I had so much hope for him, I did. But now he's proven to be unprofessional, I knew I shouldn't have let him do this." Mrs Kovlov ranted to herself.

"Mrs. Kovlov, Don't be upset. He's not going to be late enough to affect anything – he's very sorry, he asked me to tell you. Please go easy on him?" Frank requested.

"I can't give him special treatment, dear. You do understand?" Mrs. Kovlov said.

"Please." Frank asked sincerely.

Mrs. Kovlov glanced around, looking anywhere but at Frank, obviously thinking.

"He's not getting away without me sitting down and talking to him, but I'll go easy. He best not slip up again, he will not be let off so easily next time." She warned. She wasn't happy with it, but she trusted Frank.

"Thanks, Mrs. Kovlov, I really mean it. Gerard's... I don't know." Frank trailed off.

Mrs. Kovlov waited for Frank to find the words. He looked back up at her.

"He's different, from the rest." Frank said, concluding their conversation.

*

Gerard was scrambling out of the car the moment the engine died. 

"Find a seat, I'll see you after the show!" He called back to his parents, and ran inside. There was absolutely no time to waste, he was in for so much shit and he knew it.

The next half hour was nothing but a blur for Gerard. He was always nervous before performing, but this was worse.

The auditorium filled with parents and close family first, then it was open to the public for friends, every day people who wanted to see the performance, and industry professionals. A couple of the teachers stayed back stage, the rest sat in the front of the auditorium, like Frank.

The stage managers were getting antsy back stage, a few of them were checking up on all the dancers to make sure they were all ready and present.

The lighting and sound folks were waiting on Mrs. Kovlov for their cue. Right on time, she walked out from the wings and took center stage.

"I would like to thank everyone for being here tonight – the crew, the dancers, the teachers, the audience. Our students have worked diligently this term, as always, they never fail to impress. We have a stunning show in store for you tonight, so without further delay, I present our first show of our forty-third year."

She smiled so genuinely, and exited the stage and returned to her seat in the audience. The room came to life with applause and excitement.


	10. Adrenaline High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

That was their cue, and the show began. Adrenaline surged throughout the building, it felt electric. The audience was captivated. The three months of working and pushing was finally paying off for everyone involved.

Backstage, no one could stay still. It was a flurry of stretching, last minute touch ups to make up, pain pills, and frantically running over their routines.

Applause broke out when each routine was over, it was always amazing seeing the dancers returning back stage after they performed. They were excited and usually breathless and shaking, and smiling so wide.

With each routine, it came closer and closer for Frank's class to go on stage – and he was pretty fucking stoked about that. He glanced over at Mrs. Kovlov at the end of each routine to see her reaction, she looked happy, and that made Frank happy, too.

Finally, Frank's class was one performance away.

Tammy had just finished rounding up his class and had them all in the wings, lining up to go on next. Gerard's heart was about to beat right out of his body. Every thing was so crystal clear in that moment, and he felt alive. He felt that every performance, it was almost addicting.

The lights faded to black and the audience applauded for the dancers rushing off stage. And just like that, it was here – it was time.

The lights were back on, and that cued Frank's class to take the stage.

Stage time never lasted long enough. It came and way too fast. Onstage, Gerard felt untouchable. He was on top of the world, doing what he loved more than anything. With every leap, he felt like he could fly.

It was kind of blinding looking out at the crowd with the lights so bright, but from the perspective of the audience they looked like shining, glittery beings – flowing beautifully with the music and moving as one.

They hit every move seemingly effortlessly, it was immaculate. 

All good things come to an end. That fifteen minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and just as the music began to fade, the dancers exited the stage to the pitch black of the wings.

*

Frank may have been clapping harder than anyone else in the room, and it didn't even feel like enough. He wanted to wrap each of his dancers in a huge hug and tell them how proud he was – he knew how much dancing meant to all of them and the fact that he could help them made him feel so fortunate.

Once he'd gotten off stage, Gerard changed back into normal clothes, and exited through the back and around the building to sit with his parents through the rest of the show.

"You did good, son." His dad leaned over and hugged him, "I'm proud."

"Thanks, Dad." Gerard replied.

Lisa patted his back and smiled sweetly.

The rest of the show went by smoothly and swiftly. After the final performance, Mrs. Kovlov stepped back onstage for some parting words.

"Thank you all for coming tonight. My heart is overflowing with joy, I am blessed that this is my life. I sincerely hope that you have enjoyed the show. Again, I thank you, and good night."

The crowd applauded, and the curtains closed as she stepped off stage.

The Ways hung back before leaving, waiting for most of the crowd to leave first.

"Can I say something to Mrs. Kovlov and Frank before we go?" Gerard asked.

Tim and Lisa glanced at each other.

"Make it quick." Tim replied.

*

The lobby was clearing out quickly, by now it was mostly just the families of the dancers taking photos and talking to teachers. On the other side of the room, Frank saw Gerard talking to Mrs. Kovlov. He couldn't tell what they were saying, but they both looked happy and were smiling.

'That is so fucking cute,' Is all Frank could think when they hugged each other. It was his crush and his mom-figure, of course it was heart warming.

"Mr. Iero?" A student said.

His attention snapped to them, "Hey Anna, you did great today!"

"Thanks!" Anna smiled, "I just wanted to thank you for being an amazing teacher."

"Well, thank you for being an amazing student." He replied.

"See you next term." She said and turned to leave.

"Hey, Frank." Gerard said, Frank looked over to see him walking up to him, still beaming and coming off the adrenaline high.

"Hey." Frank smiled back, "You looked beautiful up there."

Well – that was forward.

Gerard giggled and looked at the floor, "Thanks."

Just then, Tim and Lisa walked up.

"You must be Frank Iero." Lisa said, extending her hand, "I'm Lisa Way, Gerard's mom."

They shook hands.

"I'm Tim, the dad." Tim added, and he shook hands with Frank as well.

"Nice to meet you both." Frank said, "You've got an extremely talented son. He's definitely going places."

Gerard's smile only got bigger, and he glanced up at Frank. Knowing his parents, Tim was probably going to reply to that comment, so Gerard just hoped with all his might that Tim wouldn't say anything off-putting, like he was kind of prone to do.

"Maybe." Tim said, "Kids - they get their minds set on something pie in the sky and get their priorities straight by college. My other son wanted to be a rock star. You know how kids are."

Gerard nearly died right there on the spot. 

That was pretty fucking invalidating, or so Frank thought. He didn't really know what to say to that, so he just kind of fake laughed and said, "Well, no, not really I guess."

"Oh, you will one day," Tim laughed, "You'll get yourself a nice woman and have a kid of your own, then you'll see what I mean."

No, just no, okay? That was not an appropriate thing to say to someone. Gerard truly wondered how Tim was able to talk so clearly with his foot in his mouth. 

Death looked sweet at this point.

Frank fake laughed again and shuffled his feet around, "I don't know about the uh, woman part."

And as if the tension couldn't have already been cut with a butter knife, Tim and Lisa fell into dead silence, and Gerard's world almost stopped.

Frank was gay. Holy shit, Frank was gay.

"Oh." Tim said, clearly uncomfortable.

"Yeah." Frank said.

He noticed Gerard staring at him, awestruck.

"We need to be getting home." Lisa commented.

"Your mother is right," Tim said, "Come on, son."

Gerard looked over at them, "Okay, I'll be there in a second."

They nodded and turned to leave.

"I am so fucking sorry about that." Gerard said so only Frank could hear.

"Oh, don't worry about it," He replied, "Parents can be a little weird sometimes."

"Yeah, to put it simply." Gerard smiled, relieved that Frank wasn't offended.

"So," Gerard began, "I probably need to go now. You're still gonna be teaching next term, right?"

Frank nodded, "Yeah, just one class though."

"Well, hopefully I'll be in that class." Gerard said.

Frank smiled. He really wanted to go for a hug. The moment felt like it was leading up to a hug, but would that be totally inappropriate and over all wrong? There was one way to find out.

He held out his arms, and Gerard got the message – and they hugged. Gerard felt so soft, and he smelled like make up and hair spray.

"Hopefully." Frank agreed.


	11. Involvement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally written way differently, and I deleted it because I kept second guessing it. I try not to write about things that I can't write accurately, and obviously I want to avoid writing things that would jump the shark, or just be a little too out there, or anything else negative and weird. (Like, a bad kind of weird.)  
> Anyways, I'm still a little bit iffy on this chapter, but I hope it's pleasing.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

APRIL

 

"That's great, man," Ray congratulated, "I'm so glad to hear!"

 

It had been a few days since the recital, classes started back tomorrow, the third. Frank and Ray found time to go out and hang for a bit. They always went to the same restaurant when they went out, ever since they met on the first set Frank worked on when he moved to New York.

 

"Yeah. I'm kinda glad it's over, though." Frank said, "Y'know, not cause I don't love it, but because a lot of opportunities are coming up for film making."

 

"Yeah, no – I get it." Ray said.

 

It didn't matter what Frank said – he could probably confess to murder, and Ray would still be encouraging and by his side. That was just his personality, he was a sweet heart and unlike anyone else Frank knew.

 

"Oh, that reminds me," Ray began, "One of my buddies is looking for a boom mic operator on his next shoot. I told him I'd ask you."

 

"Which buddy?" Frank asked, sipping his beer.

 

"Brian." Ray replied.

 

"Brian?" Frank said, that could mean one of three people. Well actually, more like one of two people, cause the third guy's projects were out of his league.

 

"Yeah, Brian Molko." Ray smiled.

 

That was the third guy.

 

"Brian Molko – for real?" Frank asked, not quite believing his ears.

 

Ray laughed, "For real, and you've got dibs."

 

"Sign me up, hell yeah." Frank smiled, "Thank you so much, Ray."

 

"No problem, I've got you." Ray said sincerely.

 

*

 

Even though she technically had one more day of her break, Mrs. Kovlov seemed to always be on call. Like today, she was meeting with a student, Allie.

 

They sat in her office. Mrs. Kovlov peered over her glasses.

 

"Come again?" She said flatly.

 

"Mr. Iero is involved with Gerard." Allie repeated.

 

"And I suppose you can back this up with something?" Mrs Kovlov asked. She wasn't convinced.

 

"Yeah, sure I can." Allie said, "It's obvious by the way they look at each other, just ask anyone. Everyone's seen it. They spend an hour together alone after class, three times a week – Gerard gets special treatment, and Macy and I saw them together."

 

"Together?" Mrs. Kovlov raised an eyebrow. Alright, so maybe there was some evidence, but Mrs. Kovlov wasn't convinced. Perhaps curious, but not convinced.

 

"Together. Mr. Iero's arms were around Gerard. We saw it during the dress rehearsal." Allie confirmed, "I don't know what's going on, but I don't feel comfortable with it. I'm just trying to look out for Gerard. I think it would be best if he were moved to another class."

 

*

 

Frank and Ray were just parting ways, when he recieved a phone call from Mrs. Kovlov.

 

"Hello?" Frank answered, getting into his car.

 

"Hello, Frank." Mrs. Kovlov began, "Are you in a position to come by the studio?"

 

"Uh, yeah, sure. What's up?" He started the car.

 

"I would like to speak to you, preferably in person." She replied.

 

"Okay, I'll be there in about ten minutes."

 

Frank started to worry, Mrs. Kovlov never requested to see him in person. Maybe it was just about his class, like, scheduling or something – or which class he wanted to teach. Yeah, something like that, no need for him to worry.

 

Just as predicted, ten minutes later – or, eleven and a half, but who's counting? Frank stepped through the door to Mrs. Kovlov's office, and took a seat.

 

"Alright Frank," Mrs. Kovlov sighed, "Let's get right to it."

 

That sounded bad. That sounded really bad – he had definitely screwed up to merit a sigh paired with that tone of voice.

 

"Someone, who would like to remain anonymous, came to me today, about the safety of a student." She said.

 

Frank looked confused, with good reason. What did that have to do with him?

 

"Frank," Mrs Kovlov said, "Be honest with me. Are you sexually involved with one of your students?"

 

Of course she didn't really believe Frank was involved with Gerard, but she'd never had a situation like this before. She had to take it seriously, and if she had more solid proof, she would have contacted Tim and Lisa by now. But this was currently a case of a possible, simple, mistake made on Allie's part. Mrs. Kovlov knew Frank on a more personal level, and that type of behavior wasn't like him.

 

She thought it best to keep the situation low key for now, and if Frank was as innocent as she thought, she would most likely leave it at that, aside from talking to Gerard about the dress rehearsal incident. The last thing she needed was a lawsuit and enraged parents.

 

"No, absolutely not." Frank replied honestly. He looked hurt and confused.

 

"I didn't think so." Mrs. Kovlov stated.

 

Mrs. Kovlov didn't keep Frank long – they talked it over and she dismissed him.

 

His mind was everywhere except reality on the way back to his apartment. Who could've said that about him? And why – what made someone think that? Mrs. Kovlov hadn't even told him which student it was that someone thought he was 'involved with'.

 

His mind floated to the worst case scenario - what if it was Gerard who said that to her? Frank mentally beat himself up the rest of the way home, and came to the conclusion that he needed to speak to Gerard.

 

*

 

At home, Gerard was in the middle of his school work, switching back and forth from sketching to solving equations. He really could not give less of a fuck about the equality of polynomials and their corresponding coefficials, or something like that, but he wanted to pass the 12th grade, so therefor – Huh, that was strange to be getting a text message in the middle of the day.

 

He put his pencil down, stood up, and went over to check his phone, laying on the dresser. The first thing he saw was a pink heart. He unlocked his phone to read the full message.

 

_I need to talk to you._

 

Well, shit. That probably wasn't good.

 

Gerard decided to bite the bullet and call Frank right away. He picked up after two rings.

 

"Hi, Gerard." Frank said.

 

"Hey. Is something wrong?" Gerard asked.

 

"Maybe – kind of. Listen," Frank sighed, "Did I do something that made you uncomfortable?"

 

"Um..." Gerard said. Why exactly did Frank feel the need to suddenly ask Gerard that?

 

"I truly, sincerely apologize if I did. I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, that was never my intent – I totally understand if you--"

 

"Frank." Gerard interrupted, "What are you talking about?"

 

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

 

"You weren't the one who talked to Mrs. Kovlov?" Frank asked finally.

 

"No, I don't think so." Gerard replied, "What is this about?"

 

Frank explained in rambly detail his and Mrs. Kovlov's conversation, and all the reasons he was afraid Gerard might have been the one to talk to her. It came as a surprise to him, and it took a second to wrap his head around.

 

"Okay... let me get this straight." Gerard rubbed his temple, "An anonymous person went to Kovlov, cause for whatever reason they thought you were involved with an unknown student, and you assumed it was me? Both were me?"

 

"Yeah, pretty much." Frank replied.

 

Maybe this whole phone call was a mistake, he was probably ruining what relationship they had by doing this. He impatiently kept running a hand through his hair, waiting for Gerard to say something else.

 

After what felt like hours, but it was probably only a few seconds, he heard... laughter? Gerard was laughing?

 

"I'm sorry," Gerard said, "Just, take a few steps back and listen to what you said. In five months we're going to look back and laugh at this, I mean, the whole thing is a little bizarre, y'know?"

 

Okay, he might be right. Frank did kind of overreact and jump to conclusions, and the situation didn't seem as dire now that he knew everything was okay. Gerard wasn't mad, he wasn't the one who talked to Mrs. Kovlov. And Mrs. Kovlov wasn't even mad. Nothing was at risk, he wasn't anywhere close to being involved with any other student, and it would take a blind eye to think so.

 

So, Frank laughed a little. The mood had completely changed since the beginning of the phone call. Life was funny like that – one second everything's great and then everything is falling a part the next, except this was the opposite, more or less.

 

"Hey, um," Frank began, impulsively deciding to go out on a limb, "Would you like to go out for coffee sometime? Not like a date or anything, but just to hang out?"

 

"Name the time and place, and I'll be there." Gerard smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things I worry about is that this chapter won't fit in with the rest. I think in the next couple it'll work out to fit well. I don't know how to phrase it in a way that makes sense and doesn't give away what happens next, but hopefully it will read that the events in this chapter do have an affect on what happens next and it's not just a random filler.
> 
> P.S.  
> I'm always a slut for Placebo.


	12. Happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

It was still brisk out, but not too cold to be unenjoyable. It was pleasant, and the sun shone brightly and beautifully on New York. Mikey was going to be there tomorrow, and stay for the weekend - so before he came, Gerard and Frank decided to meet up for coffee.

The night before when Gerard told Tim and Lisa he was meeting a friend today, they went into full private detective mode. Who was he meeting? What time? Where? How long would he be gone? To which Gerard had to truthfully answer, it was Frank, in the afternoon, in town, and he didn't know. 

They weren't so thrilled when they learned he was meeting up with Frank. 

"Is he even allowed to do that with you being his student?" Lisa asked.

Gerard assumed it was alright. What would it be hurting? It's not like they were hooking up or anything, which was ironic considering Mrs. Kovlov pulled him aside a few days ago at class to talk about pretty much exactly that.

Speaking of that – he was intending to tell Frank about it. Frank still didn't know which student the anonymous person had talked to Mrs. Kovlov about. Gerard looked forward to seeing his reaction, he honestly doubted it would upset him or make things awkward.

From a stranger's perspective, Frank and Gerard's relationship looked pretty adorable. They had arrived at nearly the same time and greeted each other like two giddy high schoolers who were crushing on each other – which, was kinda true except for the high school bit on Frank's part.

Afterwards, they ordered and sat down by a window. The sun beamed down warm on them despite it being cold out. Being in each others company made them feel whole, although they would never say that out loud. Even though they were silent and sitting opposite of each other, it felt like they were really present, and real. There was nothing about it that felt detached.

Granted, Gerard never had many friends in his life – but he did have a few, and whenever they hung out together, it felt like something was missing. Like they were just there, and not really together. But it wasn't like that with Frank. He felt content.

Although the silence and gazing out the window was enjoyable, Gerard loved talking to Frank, and he had something important to tell him.

"So, heard anything new from Mrs. Kovlov and the whole sexual involvement situation?" Gerard asked, placing emphasis on 'sexual involvement'.

Frank shrugged and looked out the window, "No. I think it's gonna blow over. I mean, I haven't done anything, and she knows that."

He looked back at Gerard, and noticed a slight smile – almost like he was trying to hide it.

"What?" Frank asked.

"She called me into her office the other day." Gerard began.

Frank gave an understandably confused look.

"Y'know the infamous anonymous tattle tale?" Gerard said teasingly.

"Yeah?" Frank replied.

"They talked to Kovlov about me." Gerard said.

"You're kidding." Frank said, a little stunned.

Gerard smiled and shook his head.

"Holy shit." He laughed, "Why? Did she tell you?"

"Yep," Gerard said, "Whoever it was was concerned about the time we spent after class, and they thought you gave me special treatment, and then to top it off, they saw you popping my back."

"Wow." Frank said, completely floored. 

So Gerard was the supposed victim all along. Frank had been right, what about that – and now if only they could figure out who anonymous was, this whole thing could be in the past. Actually, even if they never found anonymous, it didn't really matter anymore.

They couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

"Speaking of your back, how is it?" Frank asked.

"It's fine, I guess you fixed it." Gerard smiled.

Frank returned the smile, and they went back to a comfortable silence.

Frank was the first to break it, "Hey um, didn't you mention once that your birthday was soon?"

"Yeah, tomorrow." Gerard replied.

Oh.

"Oh," He verbalized, "You're gonna be eighteen, right?"

"Yeah." Gerard replied, "A bonafide adult."

Frank chuckled, "It's only downhill from here."

Gerard smiled at his joke.

"Yeah, probably." Gerard began, "It's so weird, y'know? Knowing that tomorrow I'm gonna be an adult. It's like, I didn't realize it would be here so fast."

Gerard looked down at his coffee and chewed on his lip. Frank wished he could know what was going on in Gerard's brain – know if he was okay.

"You're twenty?" Gerard asked, looking back up.

"Yep." Frank nodded, "Twenty-one on Halloween."

"Dude, really?" Gerard asked.

"Really." Frank replied.

"That is so bad-ass!" Gerard laughed, and Frank smiled at him.

Gerard loved how his eyes kind of glimmered when he smiled, he looked so sweet and innocent.

This was looking like it would be a great day, and maybe today would be the start of more than just a student-teacher relationship. Frank hoped so, and so did Gerard. 

They both hoped there would be some sort of excuse to get together one day, just something that would push them into the next step. Now here they were, in what felt like it was the next step. All thanks to fucking anonymous. It was kinda funny.

"You have a cute laugh." Frank said.

Gerard covered his mouth self consciously.

"My laugh is weird." He said from behind his hand.

"No way," Frank protested, "Why do you think that?"

"I don't know," Gerard lowered his hand, "It's loud."

"Oh, come on, that's not a bad thing." Frank said, "It's adorable."

"You think?" Gerard asked.

"Definitely." Frank said.

Gerard smiled.

Frank had a weird feeling. It was a good feeling, but it was weird – like nothing he'd felt before, there was nothing he could relate it to. 

It was like, when he was looking at Gerard sitting across from him, a part of him felt like they'd known each other all their lives. In the back of his mind, he had this tender feeling that maybe, just maybe, he'd be so fortunate as to see this smile every day, and to be able to love him forever.

*

Gerard couldn't contain his excitement to see Mikey today, and not only that, but he'd get to spend the whole weekend with him.

The Ways were going out tonight to celebrate Gerard's birthday. He loved finding an excuse to get dressed up without his parents telling him to 'take that off, you look like a girl.' It pissed him off because firstly – who gives a shit if he looked like a girl? He liked the way he looked and it felt good. Second – gendering things is fucking pointless. Third – implying that looking like a girl was bad was actually pretty fucking rude.

But, he couldn't exactly say that to his parents' faces unless he wanted to go to like, military school or something. So instead, he just stuck to finding excuses to get dressed up, like tonight, and he didn't go subtle.

He was good at make up, and when he came out of his basement and into the living room where his parents were, he could tell they were uncomfortable. The way Lisa just stared blankly at him, and the muscles in Tim's jaw clenched before looking away.

It actually made Gerard feel good. He smiled to himself, in all his smokey eyed, pink-lipped glory.

"Mikey should be here soon." Lisa said, "How do you think he's going to feel seeing you like this?"

Well, that was a little unexpected.

"Like what?" Gerard asked, sitting down.

"Like a girl." Tim butt in.

"He's not gonna care." Gerard said.

"I guess we'll see then." Lisa replied.

Whatever – Gerard wasn't going to let them bring him down tonight. His day had been great so far. When he woke up, his parents were both at work, and he received numerous calls from relatives to wish him a happy birthday and tell him how much he meant to them.

Acquaintances on social media did the same. Mikey called and they talked for an hour, and then Frank texted him happy birthday. Gerard cooked his favorite breakfast, blasted his favorite music so loud it was surprising the neighbors didn't complain, and watched his favorite movie. 

Maybe it sounded simple, but it made him feel happy, so that's all that mattered.

Right on time, Mikey's car pulled up in the driveway, and he was inside a few moments later. Gerard pretty much attacked him with affection at the door. They embraced tightly.

"Happy birthday, Gee." Mikey said to him.

"Thanks." Gerard replied, still hold each other close.

They pulled away.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too, but hey, I'm here now." Mikey smiled, "And that's a great color on you."

*

The evening exceeded Gerard's expectations. All night, the mood stayed light, and happy. When Mikey and Gerard weren't joking with each other, they were catching up on all the events since Christmas. Every time Tim or Lisa interjected with negativity, Mikey would make a blank statement which made them hush, albeit temporarily.

Mikey wasn't mean or disrespectful to his parents – he was defending Gerard and himself for the most part. Mikey was able to see through Tim and Lisa, and understand what they were really like. He did love them, they were his parents, he had to love them. But they knew when they were being blatant assholes – which was often, and despite his love for them, Mikey was done with their attitudes.

They had abused him mentally for years. He stood up for himself once he realized what was happening, and that's one of the reasons he went off to college – so he didn't have to be in such a toxic environment anymore.

It was good for him to move, but it was hard to leave Gerard behind. Before he went to college, Mikey always protected Gerard from their parents as best he could – now that he wasn't around all the time and there was only one child left in the house, Gerard got it worse than ever. 

Mikey texted him all the time to make sure he was doing okay, and he'd stop anything he was doing and call if something was wrong or if Gerard was upset. He'd tell Gerard supportive, positive things, and try his hardest to reassure him that everything would be okay. It did help a little. 

"Stand up for yourself," Mikey would tell him, "Don't let them treat you like that. Yeah, they're our parents, we've gotta love and respect them and all that, but you're a person. No one should treat a person like that."

To which Gerard would agree, but he never did stand up for himself. He was too afraid of them, and he blamed himself for them getting mad most of the time.

But right now, none of that mattered. Mikey was here and he wouldn't let Tim and Lisa's bullshit affect the weekend.


	13. Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

It took about ten minutes to get to the movie theatre, and in that time Tim and Lisa could barely get a word in, negativity or speaking to Mikey or otherwise, for his and Gerard's constant flow of talking.

Even once they were in the theatre, they'd lean over and whisper to each other about the movie. The drive over to the restaurant was the same, and again for the time spent eating. Gerard and Mikey were inseparable.

It was a damn good evening – a birthday that Gerard would remember and hold dear to his heart forever.

And it wasn't over yet.

"Your room is like you left it, sweetie." Lisa told Mikey once they were home, "I'm going to bed soon, I'm beat."

"Me, too." Tim added.

Lisa fished around in her purse and ushered for Gerard to sit beside her on the couch. She handed him two tickets.

"Happy birthday, honey." She said, and kissed his forehead.

Gerard looked at the tickets, they were for a ballet next week. 

"Thank you, Mom." He smiled.

"You're welcome." She stood up, and Tim walked over to hug Gerard again and tell him happy birthday before leaving and going to bed, following Lisa.

Gerard and Mikey glanced at each other once their parents were gone – and wordlessly headed to the basement. It was going to be like old times – staying up until the sun came out, talking, drinking, and smoking. Was it bad? Probably. Did they care? No.

"In the second drawer." Gerard pointed to his dresser.

He went over to get the bottle of booze hidden under his bed while Mikey opened the second drawer as instructed.

"Really?" He looked over at Gerard with a disgusted expression, "Your underwear drawer?"

Gerard shrugged, "Mom's never gonna look there."

"Touché." Mikey sighed, and reluctantly searched around in there for the cigarettes.

After retrieving them, he went to sit on the bed as Gerard got his lighter from the desk, and then sat down beside him.

"Kristen doing okay?" Gerard asked, exchanging the booze for the carton of cigarettes.

"Yeah, she's good." Mikey replied, "Promise you won't tell Mom and Dad something?"

Gerard's eyes flicked up to Mikey from the cigarette he was lighting in his mouth, "Mmhmm." He mumbled.

"I'm thinking about asking her to marry me." Mikey smiled.

"You are?" Gerard said excitedly.

Mikey nodded.

"That's great!" Gerard said, "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks." Mikey replied, taking the top off of the bottle, and taking a swig.

Gerard handed the carton to Mikey, and leaned off the bed momentarily to get the ashtray out from under the bed and set it between them.

"How's your love life?" Mikey asked.

"What love life?" Gerard replied, half jokingly. He picked up the bottle and took a small sip, it had been awhile since he'd drank and he knew better than to dive head first for the sake of his throat.

"You're not interested in anyone?" Mikey asked casually, lighting his cigarette.

"Well, yeah, but that's gotta go both ways to have a love life." Gerard replied, "Right?"

"Maybe." Mikey said, "What's his name?"

"Frank."

"Is he cute?"

"You sound like Mom!" Gerard laughed.

"Well, is he?" Mikey smiled.

"Yes," Gerard said, "He's like, I don't know." Gerard trailed off.

"He's like what?" Mikey asked.

"He's like this adorable, innocent puppy dog." Gerard replied, feeling a little embarrassed, "And that's not even half of it. He's so sweet and always so smiley and awkward, but like, a cute kind of awkward, y'know? And he's into pretty much all the same things."

"He sounds nice." Mikey replied, "Where'd you guys meet?"

"At dance. He's my teacher." Gerard replied.

"Hold on--" 

"It's not like that." Gerard interrupted, "He's only two years older – I know how it sounds but it's not like that at all."

Mikey sighed, "Okay." He said, "I believe you."

*

Frank had been contacted by Brian Molko about the shoot dates today. Filming started closer to the end of April and into May, and it was set to premiere in July. He couldn't wait – Brian told him that he knew the people who ran a movie theatre in the area, and he was going to contact them about having a screening there for the cast and crew.

Since he had a job lined up now, and he only taught one class at the studio, Frank found himself with a lot of extra time on his hands. He didn't know that many people to hang out with, and he'd all but stopped with the casual hook-ups. Why? The answer was simple.

He would think about Gerard, every time. And when he made a conscious attempt to not think about him, that made him think about him that much more. So, casual sex wasn't out of the question forever, but for now it was.

With nothing to do, Frank decided to mess around with his guitar some more. He'd been neglecting it lately, and that seriously needed to change. So, this was a good opportunity.

Maybe he could jam with Ray sometime – if he wasn't busy. Maybe Bert would let him jam with his band, that'd be cool. Frank didn't know everyone in Bert's band, but they were probably nice guys.

He'd heard them play a few times in bars or small venues, and their sound was good – it was unique.

In fact, he'd heard Ray mention that they were playing at another small venue in a week or two – Frank probably wouldn't be on set then, so maybe he'd go. Yeah, that'd be fun. Maybe he'd ask Gerard to go with him – as friends, though. 

Frank laid his guitar beside him on the couch, and got out his phone to text Ray about the date and time. No sooner than he picked his guitar back up, Ray replied, and like Frank thought, he was free that day.

*

The weekend was over way too soon, meaning Mikey had to leave again. He held Gerard tightly, and told him words of encouragement before he left. Gerard would hang onto the words for as long as he could – he wasn't going to let Mikey leaving upset him. He got to spend the whole weekend with him, it was going to be okay.

Gerard felt refreshed returning to dance on Monday. His new teacher was a middle aged lady, she was strict, but that was alright. She didn't like it when the students jabbered to each other while they were being taught, and Gerard was a-okay with that. He didn't talk to anyone anyway, and it drastically reduced the chances of someone making fun of him.

Also, she wouldn't let laziness slide, so everyone's technique had to be the best it could be at all times – which, Gerard's already was, and gossip quickly spread that he was just being a teacher's pet.

The last class of the day was only an hour long, and Frank taught it. Some of his students were new, some of them were the same ones from last term, and luckily, Gerard was one of them. 

Of course there were rumors as to why Frank had apparently been demoted to one class, and most of those rumors had to do with the sexual involvement situation because neither Frank or Mrs. Kovlov told them it was just because Frank's career in film was taking off.

A small clique of dancers congregated in the corner of the class room, and decided to pry into Frank's life to find out if that was the truth whenever there was a chance.

Their attention turned to Gerard and Frank as Gerard walked up to him at his table.

"Hey," Frank smiled, putting a CD in the stereo, "Have a good weekend?"

"Oh, yeah." Gerard replied, "Did you?"

Frank shrugged, "It wasn't bad."

"So um," Gerard began, Frank turned to him, "What are you doing Friday night?"

"Nothing that I know of, why?" Frank asked.

"I have two tickets to a ballet and no one to go with." Gerard replied.

"So, you're asking me?" Frank guessed, although Gerard was making it pretty obvious.

"Yeah," Gerard replied, "As long as you want to. I mean, since you teach ballet I kind of assumed you might be interested."

Frank smiled, "I'd love to."


	14. Just You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! Before you read this chapter, it contains the f-slur. It's the second line after Tim says "you better watch it."  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

Nothing much special happened between Monday and Friday. Gerard's back had a hint of pain to it in a couple of the more grueling classes, but he thought it was probably nothing that a simple pop couldn't fix.

He messaged Frank a few times throughout the week, about what to wear and who was picking up who.

Like his birthday last week, this was going to be another excuse to wear make up. It was the type of thing he kind of had to wear a suit to, and nobody said he couldn't wear red lipstick as well. As always, his parents' reactions didn't fail to disappoint.

They were both in the kitchen, Tim cooking and Lisa typing on her lap top at the table. They didn't glance up when he entered the door.

"What time is Frank picking you up again?" Tim asked, finally looking at him. He just sighed, and Gerard could see the anger and disappointment in his eyes from across the room.

"Five thirty." Gerard smirked. He couldn't help it, Tim's reaction was funny.

"You know, I'm not happy with you going with Frank." Tim said, returning his attention to the stove.

"It's not like a date, y'know." Gerard said, going to sit beside Lisa. She glanced up at him – her reaction was much like Tim's.

"I know." Tim retorted, "Because if it were a date, I wouldn't let you go."

"I thought you were okay with me dating boys." Gerard said. 

"We never said we were okay with it," Lisa said, "We accepted it. Allowing you to do something and being okay with it are different."

"My bad." Gerard replied quietly, "So then, why couldn't I date Frank?"

"He's an adult." Tim said.

"So am I." Gerard countered. He should really shut up now – actually, he should've already shut up about five sentences ago. He was really testing his parents' patience right now, and he knew it.

"My roof, my rules, Gerard." Tim replied sternly, "Don't push it or you will not be going tonight."

"Yes, sir." Gerard replied.

Lisa couldn't hold it back anymore, finally, she said, "Why are you wearing lipstick? You haven't started wearing make up normally, have you? You've already decided to be gay, do you have to wear make up, too?"

Okay, there were so many things wrong with that sentence that it took a second for Gerard to completely process.

"She's right," Tim replied, "It's embarrassing. It reflects badly on us."

Gerard scrunched up his eyebrows in confusion, and a little bit of anger.

"You know I didn't decide to be gay, right? That's not even close to how it works. And me wearing make up doesn't reflect badly on you, I don't even understand how it could." Gerard said, keeping his voice calm.

"You better watch it." Tim threatened.

"Okay, sorry." Gerard said.

"I wouldn't expect you to understand what it's like to have a fag son. Your mind is warped." Tim continued.

And that was the final straw.

"I'm sorry." Gerard apologized again.

He stood up to go to the living room and cool off. He didn't want to be in the toxic environment right now, he didn't want to hear it – from his own parents, no less. They were supposed to support him no matter what, not drag him down, not shame him, not make him feel the way he did.

Whatever. His plans were to get accepted into a ballet company and leave. Just fucking leave here and be happy and free. He only had to endure this for like a year, maybe two, tops, and then it would all be a bad memory.

He'd check in on them, stop by, make sure they were doing alright, but he wouldn't stay long enough for the toxicity to slip back in. Things would be better when he wasn't around them all the time, surely.

Gerard could hear his parents talking from his seat in the living room. He couldn't make out words, but by the tone of their voice it sounded like casual conversation. The hum of voices lulled him off into space – he zoned out for awhile and snapped back at the chime of the door bell.

Tim reached the door just before Gerard did, and opened it, to Frank. 

Frank smiled politely to Tim and to Gerard standing behind him.

"Hi, sir." Frank nodded.

"Evening, Frank." Tim replied. It felt like he was trying to burn a hole in Frank by glaring at him.

"See you later, Dad." Gerard said, scooting by him and out the door. He could not get out of that moment fast enough.

"Be safe, Gerard." Tim said, and waved bye to Frank, who waved back as he closed the door. 

Frank turned to walk down the stairs of the stoop, and saw that Gerard was like, fleeing to the passenger's side of Frank's car. That was kind of weird. That whole encounter back there was kind of weird. 

Frank got in the driver's side and closed the door.

"So, what was that about?" Frank asked, turning the keys in the ignition.

"They're not happy with us going together." Gerard anwered honestly.

Frank backed the car out of the driveway and switched back into drive.

"Why? It's not like it's a date or anything." Frank said. Unfortunately.

"That's literally what I said!" Gerard replied, "But whatever – it doesn't matter. We've got like three hours, and in those three hours, I wanna have a good time and not think about them."

"Sounds like a plan." Frank smiled, "You look nice, by the way."

"Thanks." Gerard replied, "So do you."

*

They got a few uneasy looks and judgemental stares at the theatre. Frank wasn't used to it, and he wasn't even sure why people were looking. It didn't cross his mind that it looked like he and Gerard were together.

Frank had all of about two actual boyfriends in his life, one of them was when he was sixteen and they were dating for a brief period of time and never caught in public together, and the other one was just before he moved to New York. They were more open than he was with his first boyfriend, but everyone brushed them off as just being friends.

It's not like everyone Gerard and Frank passed gawked angrily at them, it was only a few people, but it was still strange. For fucks sake, they weren't even a couple. Maybe they resembled a couple from an outside perspective, they stayed pretty close together and were awfully friendly with each other.

"Why are people staring?" Frank said quietly, leaning closer to Gerard as they entered the auditorium.

"Because we're two guys going to a ballet together and my apperance doesn't exactly scream heterosexual." Gerard said.

Frank laughed, "Really? You think that's it?"

Gerard shrugged, "If I had to guess."

They sat down, and waited for the show to begin in about ten minutes.

It was loud in the auditorium, with people speaking throughout the building and their voices all tangling together into one big, indestinguishable, hum.

There wasn't the same feeling of adrenaline as there was when it was Gerard that was going to perform, or Frank's class that was about to go on – but it was still exciting.

Gerard glanced over at Frank, who was looking around, taking everything in. He looked so pretty and content.

Frank noticed Gerard looking at him in his peripheral vision. He turned toward him.

"Whatcha looking at?" Frank asked curiously.

"Just you." Gerard replied.

"Yeah, I know," Frank smiled, "But why?

A thousand things went through Gerard's mind. Should he brush it off? Just shrug maybe, and change the subject? Should he be entirely honest? He liked Frank, obviously, and he got the feeling that Frank might like him, too. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but he'd never know unless Frank told him he did – or, didn't. So maybe just going for it and blatantly flirting with him would be the best option. 

Out right asking Frank if he liked him would be the most effective way to find out, and yeah, it's cute when people do that – but that didn't feel like the right thing to do in the moment. It would definitely work for another moment, but not this one, and Gerard wasn't going to let this moment slip away.

"You're really beautiful." He flirted. He really just said that. That just came out of his mouth and now he had to deal with it. Regrettably, life offers no do-overs – but maybe he didn't need one.


	15. Flirting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So I actually changed the plan for this fic a little bit, and it's going to kind of jump in time a little bit in a few chapters from now. I'll say more about it in the notes after the fic  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

On second thought, maybe he did need a do-over, cause Frank was only looking at him and Gerard couldn't read his expression.

Frank looked down self consciously for a brief second before meeting Gerard's eyes, "No, I'm not." He said, and kind of regretted it immediately. Gerard just complimented him – his crush, just complimented him by saying he was beautiful. And he totally just disregarded it and disagreed. 

"Of course you are." Gerard said sweetly.

Okay, good – that probably meant Gerard didn't take it as bad as Frank had thought – and he barely got that thought out before he came to the realization that – holy shit, what if Gerard was crushing on him too? 

He talked himself out of it, there's no way Gerard liked him in that way. He was just being nice.

"Thank you, Gerard." Frank replied sincerely, "It means a lot that you think so."

Gerard smiled.

So, that attempt at flirting didn't go as planned – cause apparently Frank didn't even realize that's what he was trying to do. Whatever, it wasn't like a now or never thing. He'd get the message eventually.

Frank changed the subject and they ended up talking like nothing had happened, and before long, the show was starting.

It was a lovely show, their eyes were glued to the stage for the first twenty minutes, and when the plot became apparent and predictable, Frank became fully aware of his surroundings. Gerard was right beside him, they were here together, by themselves, and not only did it give Frank butterflies, but he also had the feeling of normalcy and serenity – like this was how it was supposed to be.

His focus resumed to the stage, and not long after that, it was pulled away again. Frank remained looking straight forward, as Gerard's arm brushed against his on the arm rest. Frank didn't move his arm away, and neither did Gerard – Gerard probably didn't even know he was touching Frank, but that was alright.

Gerard actually did it on purpose, and maybe it was in vain, but that was okay. So what if Frank hadn't immediately gotten the hint? Right then, Gerard had everything he could ask for anyway. He wasn't being pestered by his parents, he didn't feel alone, he felt a sense of independence and – daresay, maturity.

This infatuation, crush, lust, whatever it was exactly that Gerard was feeling, was different from the other crushes he'd felt. He'd never felt this way with his ex-boyfriend. Not when they first met, not when they decided to date, and not even when they had sex. 

What he felt for Frank was burning and intense, yet soft and pure – which made no fucking sense to Gerard, so he just tried to forget about it as best he could and watch the ballet, and enjoy the moment without overthinking it.

During the intermission, they talked about the show for about five minutes. The rest of the time was a comfortable silence until the intermission was over, and the show went on.

The second half actually grabbed their attention, and they didn't think so much about each other for awhile.

*

Once the show was over and they were walking out of the building to Frank's car, Gerard jabbered so excitedly, he was like a kid – he was amazed by the show and the technique, and the choreography, and feeling – the dancers performed with such passion, everyone in the audience could feel it.

Frank found himself somehow able to keep up with Gerard and discussing it in the same depth. 

It was cool outside that night, and walking out of the warm building and into the windy and cold city felt good at first, but not so much after being out there for a few seconds. They absentmindedly walked a little closer together.

It was about a two minute walk to where Frank parked, and halfway there he noticed Gerard crossing his arms to retain body heat.

"You cold?" Frank asked.

"A little." Gerard replied.

"Here," Frank said, taking off his suit jacket.

"No, don't do that." Gerard argued, "You'll get cold."

"I'll be okay." Frank reassured.

He handed his jacket to Gerard – it was too small for him to fit over his own suit, so he draped it over his shoulders. 

"Well, thank you." Gerard smiled at him.

"Any time." Frank returned the smile.

Gerard pulled it tighter across his shoulders – he was still cold, but this was a lot better, not so much because of the warmth, but mostly because of how kind and selfless it was on Frank's part, and how it made his heart beat a little faster.

Gerard gave Frank's jacket back once they reached his car, and got in. 

"Do you wanna grab something to eat?" Frank offered.

He did – even if he wasn't hungry and he intended to skip dinner that night, he wanted to so bad so he could spend some extra time with Frank, but his parents were expecting him home at a certain time and Gerard knew he couldn't begin to imagine the wrath he'd face if he was more than fifteen minutes late.

"It's not that I don't want to – I can't. Cause of my parents expecting me back and all. Sorry." Gerard replied.

"Oh, no that's okay." Frank said, "Maybe another time?"

"Definitely." Gerard replied.

The ride home was pleasant. The more time they spent together talking, the more personal the conversations became. It was still light and neither spoke about very deep personal things, but they were quickly getting to know each other on a more personal level, and at this point they considered themselves friends.

During the ride home, Gerard asked about Frank's film career.

"It's going great." Frank said, "I'm actually gonna be on set later this month – the director is someone I've looked up to for awhile. Honestly, I think his films are way out of my league."

"If they were, he wouldn't have hired you, y'know." Gerard said.

"I don't know. Maybe he hired me out of pity." Frank added.

"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself." Gerard said, "I'm sure you're amazing at what you do."

He smiled, "I hope. So what about you?" 

"What about me?" Gerard asked.

"What do you wanna do in life?" Frank asked.

"I just wanna be a performer." Gerard replied, "Travel every where, dancing on stage in front of huge crowds every night – it's cliche but that's what I want more than anything."

"I believe in you." Frank replied.

*

In what was way too soon – Frank drove into Gerard's little neighborhood, and pulled into his driveway.

"Thanks for going with me tonight." Gerard said after Frank had parked.

"Well thanks for asking me." Frank replied.

"Walk me to the door?" Gerard asked.

"Yeah, sure." Frank said, "Hold on." 

He got out of the car, and Gerard waited as instructed as Frank walked around the front of the vehicle to open the door on the passenger's side.

"You make my heart swoon, Frank." He playfully teased, dramatically laying his hands on his heart.

Frank laughed at his sarcasm and shuffled his feet, and closed the door once Gerard stood up.

They walked side by side up onto the stoop, where they stood face to face, with Frank having to look up slightly.

"Text me when you get home, okay?" Gerard asked.

"Okay." Frank nodded, "Hey um – in a couple days I'm going to see a friend's band play, I was thinking maybe you'd wanna come with me?"

"What time?" Gerard asked.

"Seven." Frank replied.

"I'll ask my parents." Gerard said, "That's pretty pathetic, right? I'm an adult and I've gotta ask my parents." He chuckled.

Frank shrugged, "They love you."

Gerard hadn't talked about his parents that much with Frank, he didn't know how they treated him. Gerard couldn't agree with him, but he couldn't disagree either because that would just be weird and awkward. So, he just opted for a closed mouth smile.

"Alright, it's fucking freezing out so I'm gonna let you go." Gerard said.

"Okay," Frank smiled.

Before he could turn to leave, Gerard stuck out his arms. Frank got the message, and they hugged – lingering longer than necessary before pulling away.

"Text me." Gerard reminded.

"I will." Frank smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so my original plan was to draw it out over a huge span of time and I have discovered 1) That is going to be extremely time consuming and prohibits me from writing other things because if I try to write two things at a time they really start sucking. 2) It would get boring.  
> So, after some rereading of this fic and reading some other fics, I feel as though this is just kinda eh in comparison. Meaning, consider this work a rough first go at fic writing. Y'know some musicians have demos? This is like the fic version of a very rough demo.  
> Anyways, this fic is gonna progress a little faster in pace, I'm gonna change the title and description a little, but that's all.


	16. Fuck You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!!! There's an f-slur, it's the line after the one that starts with "you've literally never..." and then after that next one it's all clear.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

There's a huge possibility that time is not, in fact, real. Maybe it is, maybe it isn't, and maybe it'll never be proven one way or another. Gerard always thought time was real, but lately, he was giving it second thoughts.

It seemed like a life time passed in the span of a few days. Class rolled around eventually, and Gerard's back pain had definitely made a triumphant return. No big deal, he'd just ask Frank to pop it again when this class was over.

Mrs. Kovlov and Frank entered the room simultaneously, chatting, and the other teacher left with a wave good-bye. Mrs. Kovlov waved back, and felt a strange sensation in her hand. It was... numb? Her hand was numb? She wasn't doing anything that would've caused that – whatever, it was probably just a circulation thing.

She squeezed her fingers with her other hand.

"Everything alright, Mrs. Kovlov?" Frank asked, stopping at his table and looking at her, concerned.

She appeared to be deep in thought at first, and then she nodded and sort of came to.

"I'm fine, dear." She smiled at him.

Gerard approached them, hanging back quietly as to not interrupt.

"Anywho," Mrs. Kovlov resumed, "I'll leave you to teach, now."

She turned to leave.

"What's up?" Frank looked at Gerard.

"My back is hurting again. Same place, it's not bad." Gerard replied, "Would you pop it?"

"Sure." Frank said, and motioned for Gerard to come closer. 

Like before, Gerard put his arms around Frank, and he popped in his back by lifting again. Most eyes were on them, but they didn't care. Frank was helping Gerard, it was an innocent act. He didn't feel like he had to explain himself to any of the students watching.

Gerard winced, and the pain was gone. He pulled back.

"Thanks," Gerard rubbed his lower back, "That fixed it."

"Maybe you should see a chiropractor?" Frank suggested, "Y'know, just so it doesn't turn into anything serious."

"It won't." Gerard said, maybe trying to convince himself, as well as Frank.

*

A casual 'see you tomorrow night' from Gerard to Frank was all Allie needed to ignite her old flame of drama. She caught up to Gerard at the class room door.

"Extra class with Mr. Iero tomorrow?" She asked, trying to sound casual.

"Nope." Gerard replied, opening the door, and holding open for Allie.

She looked expectantly at Gerard, "Then why are you two seeing each other?"

"Why do you wanna know?" Gerard asked, annoyed, but trying to keep his voice calm.

"You can't blame me for being curious." Allie replied.

"You know what they say about curiosity." Gerard said, hardly paying attention to her.

They entered the lobby.

"Oh, come on." Allie continued, "Stop being so secretive."

"I'm not being secretive." Gerard said, "You're being nosey."

"Excuse me?" Allie said angrily. They stopped right in front of the door.

"You've literally never been kind to me in any way and now you're expecting me to just tell you why I'm seeing Frank without me being suspicious at all?" Gerard said, "I'm not stupid, Allie."

"Whatever, you fucking faggot." Allie sneered.

"Fuck you." Gerard retorted.

A few people in the lobby glanced up at them.

Allie flipped him off as she exited the building, leaving Gerard standing there feeling like a twat.

*

After reflecting on it, Gerard had probably overreacted. Not that Allie hadn't either – but maybe he shouldn't have said that to her. It didn't matter, Allie was way out of line and now maybe she'd just leave him alone. It felt like something went wrong every day to balance out the sudden good that had been happening to Gerard.

Maybe it was karma. If so, Gerard could see why people called karma a bitch.

Gerard's plans of skipping dinner were shattered upon the decision of going out tonight. He wasn't in the best of moods. Maybe it was still just because of the exchange with Allie earlier, or maybe the thought of having to eat tonight ticked him off a little more than usual.

The evening out consisted of being ignored, scolded, and humiliated – all by his parents. Not that Gerard wasn't used to that by now. He just had to remember to breathe, and stay calm, this would all be over soon and he could hide out in his basement for the rest of the night.

Gerard was trying to put it off as long as possible, but on the way home, he decided it was time to bring it up.

"Is it okay if I hang out with a friend tomorrow night?" He asked from the back seat.

He saw Tim and Lisa exchange a quick glance.

"What friend?" Lisa questioned.

He couldn't lie to them. They'd find out the truth one way or another, and then he'd be seriously fucked for lying.

"Frank." Gerard replied.

"I don't know, honey." Lisa sighed.

"You're seeing a lot of him lately." Tim commented.

"Not really." Gerard muttered. In truth, he was. But he wouldn't dare say that to them.

"Your father's right." Lisa said, "The last friend you saw this frequently was your boyfriend."

"I didn't see him that frequently." Gerard said, "So, can I go?"

"Gerard," Tim began, completely disregarding Gerard's request.

"Yes, sir?" Gerard said.

"You two aren't thinking about dating, are you?" Tim asked.

"No." Gerard lied. Well, he sort of lied. He was obviously thinking about dating him, but he couldn't speak for Frank.

"That's what I thought." Tim said.

"So, can I?" Gerard asked again.

"What time?" Lisa asked.

"Seven." Gerard replied.

"Where?" She asked in the same tone.

"I'm not sure – a venue or something." Gerard replied.

"Venue?" Tim echoed.

"Yeah, he's seeing a local band. I think they're called The Used, or something." Gerard said.

"How charming." Lisa muttered.

"So..." Gerard began, yet a-fucking-gain, "Can I go?"

*

They weren't happy about it, and they made that crystal clear. Tim and Lisa both ended up telling Gerard he could go, but it wasn't without making him feel guilty, like he was the bad guy. Tim and Lisa seemed to be more on edge lately, more strict and temperamental than usual. 

Gerard found himself taking drives in the evening now, so he could just get away. When he got home, he went straight to his basement so he didn't have to be around them.

It was six thirty, he'd barely convinced them. Frank was supposed to be there any minute, and Gerard was absolutely not going to let another awkward exchange happen like the one a few nights ago.

He glanced out the window to the driveway repeatedly, and as soon as he saw Frank's car pull up, he told his parents 'good night' and got out of there as quickly as possible.

Frank shifted the gears into reverse no sooner than he'd pulled into the driveway.

"You seem like you're in a hurry." He laughed, backing out of the driveway.

"You have no idea." Gerard muttered.

Frank shot him a mildly worried look, "Everything okay?"

Gerard sighed, "I'll tell you some other time. Don't worry about it."

"You know I'm here for you if you need someone?" Frank offered.

"Thanks, Frank." Gerard said, smiling half heartedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanna throw this out there - this originally didn't have a plot at all, and as I'm writing it I'm trying to throw some twists in there, and this chapter is where things gradually escalate.


	17. A Month, Tops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

On the way over, Gerard tried to let the pent up anger out of his system by just breathing and relaxing. Yeah, he still wanted to punch through a wall, but he felt better with Frank. 

Maybe it was just part of growing up – maybe it was his depression getting worse, but it felt like his parents were competing to see who could get to him faster. And that's just what they were doing – getting to him. He felt frustrated, every little thing he was doing lately, they were scrutinizing – and making him feel like shit over the most insignificant things.

He'd just taken it all his life, and he didn't wanna do that anymore. For the most part, he was pretty innocent growing up. Once he hit about twelve or thirteen and became depressed, all of that was thrown out the window. He did a lot of growing up really fast and learned that the world wasn't such a pure place after all.

But with that newfound knowledge and understanding, he still let people walk all over him and bully him. Luckily, he had Mikey with him then to help him through it. When Gerard was fifteen, Mikey was a nice enough older brother to let him drink and smoke, and go places not meant for fifteen year old kids, but still make sure he was protected and safe.

That was also the time when Gerard realized he wasn't straight. He wondered if he was pansexual, bisexual, even asexual – but in the end, he was gay. It was a secretive journey, with plenty of help from Mikey. Tim and Lisa wouldn't dare let Gerard out of their sight unless it was under a few circumstances.

Was it going to be strictly at a dance studio? He was allowed to be there without their supervision. Would there be adults that Tim and Lisa knew accompanying him at all times? If so, that was okay, too. As long as no unexpected guests came over, could he spend time at someone else's house with just them? Maybe – it depended on the person. Lastly, if Mikey could take him and watch out for him, he could go without Tim and Lisa.

So it required some sneaking around and being secretive. Sometimes he'd lie about whose house he was going to, or Mikey would drop him off with other people. Everyone he met with, he knew from a dance studio, seeing as how he didn't have the best social life. 

Something that struck him about this sneaking around and experimenting with sex – at sixteen no less, was how he never once felt guilty about it. Now, admittedly, he didn't experiment with an excessive amount of people, maybe it happened five or six times total, but that was risky, and a lot considering his upbringing. At first, he wondered if he would be able to even look his parents in the eyes, only to find that he had no problem at all. 

Thankfully, now that he was older, he had more freedom. But even the freedom he had now wasn't much for someone his age. 

Maybe it was the fact that he'd suddenly been going out more, maybe it was because he was an adult now – whatever the reason, despite his growing up a few years back, he felt more mature lately. It felt strange, but he liked it, and half of the time he felt this way, it was with Frank.

Like now, actually. Just being with him driving to the venue made him feel something strange. It was a good strange, though. He remembered when he first met Frank – that sexual tension between them that was soon replaced with butterflies. Gerard liked the butterflies – a lot. But he missed the tension. 

Maybe he should try to get it back. Respectfully, of course. He didn't wanna make Frank uncomfortable.

*

Frank told him that he was meeting his friend, Ray. 

"I think you guys will hit it off." He'd said.

And they did.

It was dark in the venue, most of the people were punks or metal heads in their thirties – and there was one guy that didn't look like he fit in. He was way too cute and happy and looked too chill to be there, or at least, Gerard thought so. As it turned out – that was Ray.

Gerard hung back when Frank and Ray greeted each other with a bear hug. It was honestly an adorable sight.

They let go and Ray's attention turned to Gerard.

"You must be Gerard!" Ray smiled, and stuck out his hand.

Gerard shook it, "Yeah, and I take it you're Ray?" 

"Ray Toro – that's right." He replied.

Frank smiled – both of his friends appeared to be getting along, fucking praise god.

"I saw Bert a few minutes ago, he just went back stage to warm up. He said to tell you hey." Ray said to Frank.

Gerard glanced around the room while Ray and Frank chatted. Places like this didn't intimidate him, thanks to Mikey being an amazing brother – but he did feel out of place in a wild, loud building among these really big, built, metal dudes and punks. Despite the lack of intimidation, he still inched closer to Frank.

Frank still felt sort of protective over Gerard, since that day at the dress rehearsal, it never really went away. He could see Gerard scooting closer in his peripheral vision, so without taking his attention from Ray, he gently touched Gerard's forearm, trying to non-verbally tell him 'I'm here, you're okay.'

The butterflies in Gerard's stomach that he'd grown to know so well lately fluttered their wings, and he felt like he was in a fucking teen romance movie.

Ray noticed the way Frank briefly touched Gerard's arm when he moved closer. He also noticed before when him and Frank hung out lately, that Frank had talked about Gerard a few times. He recalled how he told him about Gerard, like how much Frank enjoyed being around him and how sweet he always was, among other things.

Ray concealed a smile. He understood what was going on, even if they didn't yet.

*

The show was fun – it was loud and hot, and The Used were actually really good. They played for about thirty minutes, and it was thirty minutes full of screaming – from both Bert and the audience – head banging, Ray diving into the middle of the chaos, and Frank and Gerard hanging back to prevent someone else's blood and or saliva getting on them. 

They both let go for awhile and had fun, The Used didn't play a slow song once, and the building only settled down after they got off stage. Ray reappeared afterward, sweaty, but still intact, and their little group of three moved to the back near the bar.

The next band didn't seem like they would be as wild. They were called Modern Chemistry, or something like that. Gerard didn't really hear it. The infamous Bert McCracken walked up as they were announced, still coming off the high of performing.

"Hey!" Ray greeted, and went in for a side hug.

"What's up?" Bert asked, addressing no one in particular.

"You guys did awesome, man." Frank said.

"Glad to hear." Bert smiled. "Who's this?" He nodded towards Gerard.

"I'm Gerard." He replied.

"Gerard? It's nice to meet you, Gerard." They shook hands, "I'm Bert."

The four of them chatted for a little while. Frank made plans to go over to Bert and Ray's apartment to jam some day soon, Ray asked Gerard if he'd wanna come too, but he declined, having never learned to play an instrument. Frank offered to teach him some guitar one day.

"I'd like that." Gerard smiled.

The conversation died down after a few minutes.

"Well, I'm gonna go grab a smoke." Bert announced.

"That sounds like a good idea, mind if I join you?" Ray asked.

"Sure, yeah." Bert said, "What about you guys?" He looked at Frank and Gerard.

Frank shrugged, "I'll pass."

Bert looked at Gerard.

"I'll stay with Frank and make sure he doesn't get into trouble." Gerard smiled.

"Good call," Bert said, "He's a troublemaker."

Frank just shook his head and rolled his eyes, and Ray and Bert exited out the back.

"Having a good time?" Frank asked once they were gone.

"Yeah, absolutely." Gerard replied, "Thanks for asking me to come."

*

"Since when did Frank start dating?" Bert asked Ray casually, lighting his cigarette.

Ray chuckled, "I don't think they're dating."

"No?" Bert asked, leaning against the building.

"No." Ray shook his head, "But they probably will be before long."

"Well, shit." Bert said.

"What?" Ray asked, bouncing on his heels.

"I made a bet with Quinn that he'd end up dating Jeph." He replied.

*

The night didn't last long enough, that was for certain. It was just past ten when Gerard's parents started texting him, asking if he was okay and if he was coming home soon.

"I don't wanna be a buzz kill, but my mom's getting worried." He said to Frank.

They were sitting at the bar with Ray. In an attempt to be responsible, Frank wasn't drinking, and in order to not get grounded, scolded, or y'know, murdered – Gerard wasn't drinking either. They'd lost Bert awhile ago, Ray guessed he was somewhere making out with a stranger.

Frank pulled out his phone to check the time. "Oh – yeah, I can see why." He looked at Gerard, "Wanna head out?"

"Well I don't want to," He said, placing emphasis on the want, "But we probably should."

"Alright." Frank said, smiling warmly.

"Turning in?" Ray asked.

"Yeah." Frank replied, standing up simultaneously with Gerard.

They hugged good bye. 

"See you soon, Ray." Frank said.

"Seeya." Ray replied. He waved to Gerard, "It was nice meeting you, Gerard!"

"You, too," Gerard smiled, waving back, "Take care."

Ray just smiled to himself watching them leave – how they walked so close together and the way Frank ever so gently had his arm around Gerard's waist, Ray gave it a month tops before they were together.


	18. Light as a Feather

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

Frank tried to be subtle and to not make it a big deal – apparently, it worked. Gerard didn't say anything about Frank putting his arm around him. Maybe that was a bad thing, though – what if Gerard noticed and was uncomfortable with it? Fuck it, no more subtle bullshit, Frank was going to make a move.

Is that what the kids called it these days? 'Making a move'? Or was that lame? Whatever, it didn't matter, they were almost to the car and it felt like now or never. Being with Gerard the whole night, just being able to let go and see him having fun, sweating, breathing, in such pure human moments, was amazing. Frank loved it, he loved every minute of it.

And then sitting at the bar with him, chilling out afterwards with Ray, was so relaxing. It was gratifying – and it felt like he was finally home. Home, not as in a roof and four walls. This kind of home was comforting, that was peaceful and happy. That was Gerard.

Frank was going to say something and nothing was going to stop him. He didn't know what he was going to say, he hoped maybe he'd just like, magically find the right words – he had from the middle of the parking lot to the car to think of something, and then he was going to say it whether he was ready or not.

His thoughts were interrupted by a cell phone ringing.

It was Gerard's phone.

"Shit, it's my mom." He muttered before answering it. "Hey, Mom."

Oh well, a mild case of Murphy's law wasn't enough to discourage Frank.

"Yeah, I know." Gerard said into the phone, "I don't know. Twenty, thirty minutes I guess? Yeah... Oh, okay... Yeah, I know... Sorry."

They slowed to a stop at Frank's car.

"Okay." Gerard said, "Bye."

He put his phone back in his pocket.

"Are they upset?" Frank asked.

Gerard shrugged, "They're not overjoyed."

"I'll take the blame." Frank said.

"No, don't do that." Gerard protested.

"Well, I mean it really is on me, being the chauffeur." Frank replied.

Gerard didn't reply.

"You okay?" Frank asked.

He nodded, "Yeah. She said she and Dad needed to have a talk with me."

Frank's stomach dropped through the pavement, and Gerard saw it.

"It doesn't have to do with tonight," He blurted, clarifying his words, "They said it was some other thing."

Frank closed his eyes in relief. He opened them, to see Gerard still looking at him. His skin had a blue tint to it, with the lights in the parking lot shining overhead. His hair was messier than usual, and he looked kind of tired. He was beautiful. 

"Gerard?" Frank began, having no idea where this was about to go. His heart sped up a little.

"Yeah?"

"Tonight was fun," He hesitated, "I was thinking, if you want to, we could maybe start going out kind of regularly? I like being with you, and talking to you. You're just – I don't know, you're different from anyone else I've met."

Frank couldn't read Gerard's expression. He didn't have to try for long, Gerard glanced down shyly and smiled. 

"I'd love that." He looked at Frank.

"You would?" Frank said, almost not believing his ears.

"Definitely." Gerard replied.

*

The mood was light during the drive back. Frank was glad to get that off his chest, it was relieving that Gerard wanted to go out with him more. Looking back, Frank maybe should have mentioned that he was hoping more for dating rather than just hanging out, but he couldn't change it now. 

And honestly, if Gerard didn't want to be with him like that, it would be a little disheartening, but Frank would be okay with it, and still would want to know him as friend. So maybe, if he brought up the idea of dating so suddenly, it would scare Gerard off – and Frank obviously didn't want that to happen. So the way it ended up happening was good.

Baby steps, he thought. Time would tell.

The lights in the living room were on in Gerard's house, and they could both see movement through the window. Gerard was already dreading what was coming next.

He sighed softly as Frank parked the car.

"Would it be okay if I apologized to them for having you out late?" Frank asked.

"I don't know." Gerard said, "That's not even a valid reason to apologize. They didn't give me a curfew, we didn't say an exact time you'd get me back. Late is a matter of opinion, anyway."

Frank unbuckled his seat belt. "It doesn't matter, I'm not even sorry about it." He said, "I just wanna like, soften the blow, or whatever."

Gerard quickly thought it over. He knew his parents, and Frank's apology, sincere or not, probably wasn't going to soften anything. But Frank wanted to, even though the tongue lashing Gerard was about to receive was going to be way worse than Frank knew. And even though his apology might not make things better, it certainly wouldn't make them worse – and it was a sweet gesture.

He reached over and laid his hand on top of Frank's, in his lap. 

"Thank you." Gerard said. 

They both got out of the car and walked up to the stoop, Frank trailing behind Gerard. He turned around to face Frank. 

"Drive safe, okay?" He said. He wanted to say more, anything to prolong this moment and prevent them from having to part, and hold off whatever 'talk' waited behind the door. It was true, Lisa told him on the phone that they needed to talk about something that didn't have to do with tonight, but he knew that tonight was a subject they would definitely be covering.

"Always." Frank smiled. "Thanks for tonight."

Gerard hugged him tightly, it caught him off guard at first, but Frank wrapped his arms around him and hugged him back – with Gerard's face pressed into Frank's neck, he never wanted to pull away. 

But he did, unfortunately, he had to. But it wasn't without placing a swift kiss, light as a feather, on the apple of Frank's cheek.

Frank wanted to say something, but he didn't have time. Gerard opened the door and peeked in. He was greeted with Lisa walking up from being in the living room. She looked solemn – not a good sign.

Her features hardly softened when she saw Frank.

Gerard stepped into the foyer and flattened himself against the wall.

"Hi, Mrs. Way." Frank said.

"Hello, Frank." Lisa replied.

Gerard crossed his arms and looked down – he wasn't about to leave Frank alone to deal with Lisa.

"I want you to know that I'm very sorry about having Gerard out so late." Frank apologized, "It's entirely my bad."

Frank could feel Gerard's eyes on him, he knew Gerard wasn't happy that he'd blamed himself, but he didn't want Tim and Lisa to think for a minute that Gerard was at fault. In reality, it was no one's fault, because really, the fault in question here was nonexistent. What Gerard said earlier was right. His parents didn't set a curfew and neither him or Frank gave them a time they'd be back.

He was essentially apologizing for something that didn't exist.

"I'm sure it isn't entirely." Lisa said, "Have a good night."

"You, too." Frank replied.

"Text me when you get home." Gerard added.

Frank nodded to him, as he turned to leave and Lisa closed the door.

Lisa's anger was seething out of her, and he just knew Tim was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, and jaw clenched. He was about to go through some serious shit, and he didn't feel a single fucking ounce of guilt.

They could ground him, they could take away his phone, his computer, his car, his freedom – but he'd find a way to get that stuff back eventually. What they couldn't take away was the memories of tonight – the fact that it happened, the fun that he had. The fact that Gerard kissed Frank, as chaste as it might have seemed, he really kissed him, and he meant it. No one could take that away, and it was worth every second of hell he was about to go through.

"Sit down, Gerard." Tim's voice boomed from the living room.


	19. Disappointment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!!! There's an f-slur twice in the chapter, the first one is the next line after "Apparently you used the..."  
> And the next one is in the first big chunk of dialogue from Tim, the same paragraph where he says "I do everything I..."
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

He did as instructed, with his head held high for once. Lisa followed Gerard into the living room and sat down, him on one side facing them on the other, as if it was him against them. The air could be cut with a butter knife, it was so thick with tension.

"We are disappointed in you." Lisa began, "You know we didn't want you out this late."

"You never told me what time to be back." Gerard defended.

"But you knew better than to be out this late!" Lisa scolded.

Tim sat forward, "What did you do all night?"

Gerard shrugged. "I had fun. I hung out with Frank and his friends."

Tim was clearly unsatisfied with the answer. Gerard knew what he wanted – he wanted a guilty confession of all the wrong, immoral things he didn't even do tonight. 

"I can't believe the amount of irresponsibility you've shown, Gerard. Our confidence in you is dangerously low." Lisa said, "And on top of that, there's another matter that needs to be discussed."

Gerard sat back and crossed his legs, trying to get the message of calmness and not caring through to them via body language. He could handle this.

"We received a phone call from Mrs. Kovlov." She stated.

Oh, shit.

"Apparently you used the 'F' word at one of the girls." Lisa said, "Explain why?"

"She called me a faggot." Gerard replied.

"That is not an excuse." Lisa snapped.

Lisa looked over at Tim, who was just looking at the floor like he was questioning all of his life choices – which, he probably was.

"I don't know what's been going on with you lately, but you better straighten up and get your act together real soon." Lisa said threateningly.

"You are grounded, Gerard." Tim piped up sternly, "You are not allowed to go anywhere outside of dance. No seeing friends, no going out, no driving around. You will stay in this house. I will be needing your keys, your computer, and your iPod."

"For how long?" Gerard asked.

"Until we say." Tim added.

"How am I gonna get to class?" Gerard asked.

"You father will come get you during his lunch break, and I will get off work early to bring you home." Lisa said. "Go get your things, now." She commanded.

Gerard stood up in no hurry, and left the room to retrieve his things. He left his phone in the basement intentionally, thank god they didn't ask for that. He could still get online with it and do pretty much anything he could do on a computer or his iPod. And he could talk to Frank and Mikey. That was pretty important.

Back upstairs, he handed over his things to Lisa.

"We're disappointed, Gerard." She said, "We've lost a lot of faith in you."

As if they had any to begin with. He wanted to say that out loud so bad, but he bit his tongue. It'd only get more time added onto his sentence.

"Sit down." Tim demanded. Gerard obeyed, keeping up a poker face. He wasn't too happy with it, mostly annoyed – but he wasn't sad, he wasn't ashamed. Not this time.

Tim stood up and loomed over Gerard. 

"You are a disappointment." He began, "I do everything I can to show you how much I love you, and this is how you repay me and your mother? By disrespecting us and acting out? By wanting to be some emo faggot? It's embarrassing! Do you know how it makes me feel introducing you to my friends? Being seen in public with a son like you?" Tim's voice gradually grew louder, and his eyebrows furrowed together. He paused to look down at Gerard.

Gerard looked back up at him and didn't dare break eye contact. 

"You better start acting right, boy." Tim continued, "I can't handle any more of this. You're going to make us have to take you out of dance before long. You're not going anywhere as a dancer, anyway. Hell, it'd probably do you good to get out of that environment. Maybe that's why you turned out like this – maybe that's where we went wrong. You don't straighten up, there's no more dance, we'll put you in a public school. Maybe getting your ass beat a few times will knock some goddamn sense into you!"

Tim was steaming, that little vein his neck looked awfully close to busting. He gave Gerard a good glare before sitting back down beside Lisa – Gerard kept his eyes trained on him the whole time.

"Go to bed." Tim said, dismissing him.

"I love you, too, Dad." Gerard said, standing up. He held his glare until he'd walked past them.

*

In the basement, he could hear Tim and Lisa's voices, muffled. He couldn't tell what they were saying, but it was probably about him. He didn't give a shit. Yeah, he was ticked off from the events that just took place, but what could he do about it? And how was it affecting him?

He didn't feel sorry for himself, and he'd find ways to cope with the loss of his freedom. His parents were away at work from eight in the morning until six in the evening, Monday through Friday, unless one of them had a cold, which was rare.

Gerard had dance from twelve in the afternoon until five in the evening on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. That gave Gerard quite a few hours of loneliness – time in which Tim and Lisa could only assume he was home. Just because he didn't have the keys to his car didn't mean there weren't other forms of transportation. 

It was fucking New York, for Christ's sake.

And they lived a ten minute walk away from the city.

Honestly, his plan seemed to be a little too easy to be true. He obviously knew that there was a way to track smart phones – he knew people whose parents did that, but they had to be like, synced or something. But it didn't matter, just because it was the twenty-first century didn't automatically mean everyone had a smart phone.

Like Tim and Lisa, for example, who both still proudly sported flip phones.

They couldn't call the house phone to make sure he was there, either. They got rid of their house phone a few years back when cellphones got more popular, and their house phone was rarely used.

If there was a hole in this theory, he'd find out the hard way.

It was just past eleven, and Gerard was pretty tired. After he changed into pajamas he got under the covers and laid down, picking up his phone once he was settled. He could hear the floorboards creaking upstairs, and the sound of his parents' footsteps going to their bedroom. They'd be asleep in twenty minutes.

Frank had texted Gerard, saying he was home safe, and asking how bad the 'talking to' went.

Gerard messaged him back, asking if he could call in about twenty minutes.

*

Frank was washing dishes when he saw his phone lighting up on the counter. He shut off the water in the kitchen sink and wiped his hands on a towel before going over to pick up his phone. He'd been worried about Gerard since he got home, and he hoped he was alright. 

He didn't know what went on behind closed doors in the Way household, but he got a certain vibe from Gerard that it wasn't a wholesome environment full of love and affection. The tone in his voice was different when he talked about his parents – if he talked about them at all. It was rare, and he'd change the subject quickly. 

The few things Frank heard him say weren't good. It wasn't that it was bad, he wasn't complaining or anything, it just wasn't good, you know? But Frank didn't want to jump to conclusions or assume the worst.

He wanted to know more, sure, and he considered him and Gerard to be friends, but he wasn't going to ask until their relationship was a lot closer. He didn't want to pry or be disrespectful. Based off Frank's interactions with Tim and Lisa, Frank figured they weren't easy to get along with, and he left it at that.

Not only was he worried about Gerard, he was also just, confused. Completely confused and sort of happy. Well, okay, maybe a little more than just sort of. He was extremely happy and he hardly stopped smiling the entire drive home. Gerard kissed him. He really kissed him. It made Frank's heart soar. 

He texted Gerard back quickly, telling him absolutely he could call.

Again, he tried to keep himself from jumping to conclusions. The text had no indication about what happened, he probably just found it easier to verbally say it rather than text it. No big deal.

Frank spent the twenty minutes finishing washing dishes, changing clothes, washing his face and brushing his teeth. He got into bed and checked the time, Gerard should be calling soon. He laid back, being sure to stay awake until his phone finally rang. 

"Hey." Frank answered, looking up at his ceiling.

Gerard was doing the same thing fifteen minutes away, laying on his back staring at the ceiling, on the phone with Frank.

"Hey." Gerard replied quietly, just in case his parents were still awake.

"So, how'd it go?" Frank asked.

"Uh, it went." Gerard replied. "Are you about to go to sleep?"

"No, don't worry." Frank said, "We can talk for as long as you want."

"Okay." Gerard began, "So, they're not mad at you – they're just really disappointed in me, cause I'm irresponsible."

Frank could practically see Gerard using finger quotations on the 'irresponsible.'

"My mom didn't have much to say. My dad went on this big fucking rant about me, though. About how I'm like, an embarrassment to him and he said if I don't start acting better he's not gonna let me dance anymore, and some other stuff. I don't know if I believe him." Gerard said.

"Wow, I'm really sorry." Frank replied.

"Nah, don't be." Gerard said, "Wanna know what they needed to have a talk with me about?"

"What's that?" Frank asked.

"Y'know Allie?" 

"Yeah?"

"The other day we were in the lobby, and she was being really nosy, and basically it ended with her saying something shitty to me and I said 'fuck you'." Gerard recalled, now smiling at the memory, "She flipped me off, it was funny. But yeah, somehow it got around to my parents and that's what they needed to talk about."

"Damn." Frank laughed, "What was it she said to you?"

"Doesn't matter." Gerard replied softly.

"Sure it matters." Frank said.

Gerard shifted. "It was just a slur, no big deal." 

Frank could easily guess at what it was, and got the hint that Gerard didn't wanna talk about it.

"Alright," Frank said, changing the subject, "So, you're good? With your parents and all?"

"Mmm, not exactly." Gerard said, "They grounded me. Whatever, though. It's not like I haven't done things behind their back before, y'know."

"You think that's a good idea?" Frank asked, squinting. He'd done plenty of sneaking around himself when he lived with his parents, and he never got caught, but he worried about Gerard.

"Nope." He said, "But I'm not staying confined to this house for god knows how long."

Frank nodded, despite Gerard not being able to see it.

"Hey, um," Frank began, "I wanted to ask you about something – about earlier."


	20. Self-Pleasure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

He shifted again and closed his eyes. Gerard knew what he wanted to ask about.

"What about it?" Gerard asked.

Frank didn't know how to word it or even what to say at all.

"You, um," Frank began, "You kissed me."

"Yeah." Gerard replied. Frank was silent. "Was that wrong?"

"Um, I don't know." Frank laughed, "Probably – why did you do it?"

"Cause I wanted to." Gerard replied, "And I hoped maybe you wanted me to."

"Well," Frank began, "You're right – I mean, I did."

Gerard wasn't sure if he heard that right.

"You did?" He repeated for clarification.

"Yeah." Frank replied, "So..." He trailed off.

Gerard waited for him to keeping talking.

"What does that make us?" Frank asked.

Gerard smiled. Frank was really asking that. They were seriously discussing their relationship right now. Over the phone while they were both tired, and after Gerard's parents' scolding maybe wasn't the most ideal situation to be having this discussion in – but who cared? It was happening.

"I have no idea." He laughed, "What do you want us to be?"

"I was kinda hoping, maybe," Frank began, "Maybe we could like, date? If you want?" 

"Absolutely, yeah." Gerard said, "Man, I've wanted to ask you that for weeks."

"No kidding?" Frank smiled.

"Nope." He replied.

"Wow, like seriously, wow." Frank began, "I didn't think you liked me like that. And all this time, I've been too afraid to say something because of it. You remember that day at the dress rehearsal?" 

"Mmhmm." 

"That was when I realized I liked you – I mean, I liked you before, too, but... But not like that." Frank confessed. He felt a little silly telling him that, and he was too tired to filter himself, but Gerard thought it was cute.

Frank heard him giggle, which made Frank smile himself. What did he do to deserve such a good thing happening to him?

"Look, I'm fucking exhausted," Gerard began, "What are you doing Tuesday?"

"Nothing until three, then I've gotta be on set until like, one in the morning." He replied.

"Why so late?" Gerard asked, falling off topic.

"We're shooting out doors on location, so the plan is to get the day shots first and then the night shots so we can knock all of it out in the same day." Frank replied.

"Oh, okay." Gerard replied, "So you're not gonna be busy until then?" 

"Nope." Frank said, "You wanna do something?"

"Yeah."

"Like what?" 

"I don't care as long as it's with you." Gerard replied.

Frank laughed, "That was really sappy, you know." 

"I know." Gerard smiled, "But I don't care."

*

Agonizing. If Gerard could describe the weekend in one word, that was it. And it was only Saturday morning.

He recapped what happened last night upon waking, reminding himself that it was real. He sat propping lazily against the headboard, his knees up to his chest, smiling like a little kid. 

Things went downhill from there though, which is where the agonizing part came into play. At breakfast, they sat around the table, eating, and pretending to be a happy family. The negative energy from last night remained thick in the air.

All that was said was a few 'good morning's and the rest was passive aggressive bullshit and subtle references to last night's antics, accompanied with not-so-gentle reminders that he was grounded for an indefinite period of time, and the continuing threat that he'd better start acting right. 

After breakfast, his parents moved to the living room to relax before going about the rest of the day. Gerard attempted to retreat to his room, but Tim and Lisa wanted him to stay with them, saying it wasn't good for him to lock himself away from them so much. They discussed right in front of him that they believed he needed a positive influence in his life.

Dreadfully, they came to the conclusion that they would go to church tomorrow. They hadn't been to church in years – and from Gerard's memories, he wasn't excited to be going back. It was a hellish experience – ironic, right?

After the discussion, they finally acknowledged his presence and announced that they would be going into town, and he would not be joining them. They reminded him once again that he wasn't going because he was grounded, as if he'd forgotten that fucking little factoid.

Tim and Lisa didn't say how long they'd be gone, so Gerard thought it best to stay put. He called Mikey right after they left, and caught him up on the events of the last twenty-four hours. His advice? Be strong, tough it out, it wouldn't last forever – but be good to himself, put his mental health first, and if he needed to break down and cry, go for it. Just treat himself right afterward and try to keep his spirits high. And never let them see him cry.

After they hung up, Gerard tried to occupy his time by watching TV, and scrolling through social media. He got bored after awhile, and went downstairs. He could draw – that was something he enjoyed. He could make a vain attempt at playing guitar, which may prove interesting. 

Gerard realized he hadn't stretched today, so he opted for that – which lead him into going over the routines in his mind as he did so. He changed into something more comfortable, so he could move easier, and decided to get some practice in. 

He danced in the middle of his room, trying to go all out as best he could while staying in one place as to not bump into anything. The new teacher's choreography called for technical precision, no one could get away with being sloppy, or they'd lose their balance fall on their ass – which, some of them learned the hard way.

After running it over and over so many times in a row with no breaks, Gerard found himself getting increasingly lazy, and on a part where he had to come up from a back bend, he could feel his body beginning to tip backwards when he was almost standing straight, and there was nothing he could do.

He let himself fall flat on his back, with a thud and a groan. Gerard was fine, it didn't hurt him. He laid there for awhile, though. Just staring up, finally resting, controlling his breathing, and letting his mind wander off.

Gerard laid a hand on his breast bone, trailing his fingers up and down it lightly. He closed his eyes, zoning out, cooling off. His hand roamed farther down, still tracing a line now to his stomach. He reached down and lifted his shirt up to his chest. The fabric brushing across his flesh and the cool air hitting him caused his skin to prickle with goose bumps.

He let his fingertips glide over his stomach, now intentionally trying to give himself more goose bumps. Gerard was by himself, and his parents were out. So, he made his mind come back into focus a little bit, to start thinking about specific things.

What lips would feel like pressing onto his neck, hot breath – teeth dragging across his skin. The same lips down further, down past his stomach... The thing about still being a hormonal teenager was that becoming aroused was pretty easy. He spread his legs a little, and rested his hand on his crotch, feeling the warmth come off his palm.

Gerard pressed down slightly on the bulge in his sweatpants, the pressure felt teasingly good. No one was home, he could have all the time he could handle doing this – and he wanted to be shamelessly indulgent.

He lifted up, and applied more pressure again, and again, and then he rubbed, slowly with a controlled hand. He let himself utter a small gasp – he could be as loud as he wanted now. He kept rubbing, gently, and decided to get more comfortable.

Gerard stood up, and took his shirt the rest of the way off. He took off his sweat pants, and laid down on top of his messily made bed sheets. He went back to palming himself through the fabric until it got boring – he squeezed his hard-on, and lifted his hips to pull his boxers down, and kicked them off.

He laid back down flat, legs spread again. He pumped his cock a few times, and paused. He teased the tip with his thumb, stroking over it, smearing pre-cum. He moaned at the tingling sensation, and continued to trace his fingertips lightly around his cock, applying pressure in some places until he was so turned on it was throbbing.

He stopped long enough to get the lube from his nightstand, and squirted some out onto his hand. Gerard closed the lid and set the bottle aside, and began stroking his cock, slow and firm. His hand sped up gradually until he found a pace, fast enough to get him more worked up but not so quick that he wouldn't last. 

Once he was almost on the brink of an orgasm, he slowed down, groaning at the sudden loss of friction, and went back to rubbing his thumb over the tip of his cock, faster this time. After calming down, he moved his hand back and stroked again, starting slow and building speed, squeezing lightly at the tip.

He repeated it once, twice, just fucking losing himself in the pleasure, until he couldn't take it anymore – didn't want to take it. He jacked himself off, not slowing up this time when he felt heat pooling in his lower stomach, and felt himself starting to tense. Gerard could feel it building, until he couldn't hold back anymore. He moaned loud and obscene, gasping, stroking himself through his orgasm, coming hard on his fist and stomach.

Fuck, the release was amazing. Gerard laid there, breathing, mouth still open. He was a complete mess, but he didn't care – he just laid still, coming down from the high until his heart slowed down to normal and his breath was even again.


	21. Disobey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

Middle aged and up, snobby-looking conservatives who glared at Gerard. That was everyone in the church building, with the exception of a couple of small kids, who gave him equally weird looks.

Being preached at about the word of God wasn't how Gerard wanted to spend his Sunday morning – sleeping was more like it, but he didn't have a choice. How fitting that he found himself praying after all – that his parents wouldn't make this a regular thing.

From afar, the whole idea of a big, mysterious being in the sky loving you more than anything else sounds cool, and Gerard was glad that the people who found God were at peace because of Him. Gerard wasn't going to try and convince the rest of the church-goers that their God was false – honestly, he didn't know if God was real or not, but he personally didn't worship Him. He didn't want to, he didn't see a point.

Why would he worship something, who first of all couldn't be proven – who just let the things He loved suffer? Why did He let so many shitty things happen with no fucking justice? Why would Gerard want to love something that told him he was an abomination? 

It literally says in the Bible that homosexuality, unwed sex, masturbation, blasphemy, alcohol, cussing, effeminacy, and even jesting were just a microscopically miniscule few legitimate sins, and Gerard practiced them often or even daily. Jesting! Motherfucking jesting was a sin! What the fuck?!

At least it was comforting to know that when he was damned to hell, it'd be filled with fellow potty-mouthed, homosexual jokesters.

Anyway, being preached at about how wrong he was and how he was going to hell wasn't exactly Gerard's cup of tea. But, he suffered through it. There was a painting of Jesus in there that Gerard kept looking at. Jesus was facing forward, his eyes followed those of the on-looker's. They were just empty, fading brush strokes, but Gerard felt judged by him regardless. 

Tim and Lisa tried to talk to him once church was over and they were driving home.

"Wasn't that refreshing?" Lisa asked him, "I regret not going to church for so many years. Gerard, wasn't it refreshing?" She repeated.

"I guess." He lied – oh wait, that was also a sin.

*

He managed to escape his parents for the rest of the day, skipping out on dinner. He spent the majority of his prison sentence just drawing, browsing the Internet, reading. The more he thought about it, the more it really felt like being in prison, complete with wardens.

He fell asleep early, and woke up late.

And just as promised, Tim came by the house, fifteen minutes later than Gerard normally left, to drop him off at the studio. The new teacher scolded him, which was humiliating, as you can imagine. And having it happen in front of his fellow students was the icing on the cake. They snickered at him. Gerard thought it best to lay low for the remainder of the class and just focus on the choreography they'd began learning a few weeks ago.

He caught Allie's glare a few times, with her minion, Macy right by her side.

It was relieving when the new teacher left, replaced with Frank for the last hour of class. In the doorway, he stopped the other teacher and asked her if she'd seen Mrs. Kovlov today, which, she hadn't. Frank was a little concerned about her, something was off. Of course only he would notice, since she was like a mom figure to him. But that's how Frank was – once he loved someone, he loved them with all he had and needed them to be safe.

Frank and Gerard's eyes met once he walked in, and they smiled at each other from across the room. It felt different, this time – seeing each other. It was a good kind of different.

Frank was careful to not give Gerard special attention, and with good reason – he was under heavy scrutiny courtesy of Allie. Since the whole student involvement incident, Frank tried to dial it down. Honestly, he didn't even think he was giving Gerard special attention before. Maybe it was the friendlier smiles, maybe it was because he wasn't afraid to be hands on with him because they were more comfortable with each other, whereas he rarely touched the other students because he looked at them as students, instead of friends.

But now he got to look at Gerard as more than a friend, although no one else at the studio could know that for the next eight months, until his final year of teaching ended. This was their secret, it had to be. They were both sober-minded consenting adults who felt strongly for each other, it wasn't like Frank was a far older authority figure who seduced a kid. Despite their relationship being healthy, chaos would ensue in the studio and Mrs. Kovlov would probably have a damn stroke if they were found out.

The studio's reputation would be damaged, Gerard maybe would have to discontinue taking classes, Frank would be fired, and the students would be repulsed and probably not even feel safe there anymore, even with him out of the picture.

So for now they'd have to keep it on the down low, but that was alright.

After class, Gerard stalled getting his stuff, and changing shoes, waiting until the rest of the students had filed out before getting up and going over to Frank, who seemed to be stalling as well, to steal a few minutes alone with Gerard.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow around eleven," Frank smiled as Gerard walked up to him, "Sound good?"

"Sounds great." Gerard replied, reaching for Frank's hand. 

They just stood in comfortable silence, Gerard looked down, admiring their fingers laced together. Frank had beautiful hands, they felt warm and calloused, from playing guitar and whatever he did at work. Gerard wanted to know more about filming. Mostly, he just wanted to hear Frank tell him about something he was so passionate about.

"What does your tattoo say?" Gerard asked, referring to the red ink around his wrist.

"I wish I were a ghost." He replied, turning his wrist slightly. "It's lyrics, from a band I was in in high school."

Gerard smiled, "I didn't know you were in a band."

"Yeah, Pencey Prep. It never went far." Frank looked down at the tattoo. "We made an album, though."

"Really?" Gerard asked, "Is there a way for me to hear it?"

"Mmhmm. I've still got it on a cd." Frank replied, rubbing his thumb gently over Gerard's.

"Well, I guess that answers what we're going to be doing tomorrow." Gerard said lightly.

*

Hand holding was all Allie needed to see. She had plenty of faults, and spying on them wasn't one – but tattling was. She went straight to Kovlov. 

Allie walked quickly and with purpose down the hall to Mrs. Kovlov's office, and entered without knocking. Mrs. Kovlov stirred, startled. She had been sitting with her elbows propped on the desk and her head in her hands. From the bottle of tylenol sitting within arm's reach on her desk, it was clear she had a headache.

She just stared up at Allie, and Allie took the hint to spill it. "I saw Mr. Iero with Gerard again."

She continued to stare wordlessly at Allie, before standing up, opening her door, and proceeding down the hallway with Allie following close behind. She looked in the class room, to find it empty. Mrs. Kovlov turned back to Allie.

"Give it a rest, dear." She said flatly.

Mrs. Kovlov's head was pounding too badly for her to worry with it, she trusted Frank, and after hearing Gerard's side of the story from last time, it sounded like Allie was just crying wolf. Mrs. Kovlov motioned with her head towards the exit.

"Go home." She said softly, "Good work today."

*

"I'm going straight to hell." Frank laughed, driving to his apartment with Gerard in the passenger seat.

"I know, right?" Gerard said, raising his voice to combat the radio, "Fuckin' jesting – Christ. No wonder christians always act like they've got a stick up their ass."

Frank laughed again.

"Hey, you know what?" Gerard said.

"What's that?" Frank asked.

"You should go to church, too." Gerard said, a smile creeping onto his face, "With me. Can you imagine how my parents would react?"

"Hilarity would undoubtedly ensue," Frank said, "But church isn't my scene – it'd be my luck to fucking burst into flames when I touched the door knob."

They kept talking all the way to Frank's apartment building. There was the option to park in the parking garage, or a couple of blocks away, or to risk the safety of your vehicle and park behind the building. Frank usually opted for the parking garage.

It was fairly full, and cold. Closing their doors sent an echo bouncing off the walls, and their footsteps walking out were slightly amplified. Outside, the building where Frank lived was just to the left. 

"Hold my hand?" Frank offered.

Okay, the innocence in that sentence and just the way Frank said it – and the way he was just so, so Frank – made Gerard's heart leap. Fucking teen romance movie, man. Not only that, it was really sweet knowing Frank wanted to be in physical contact with him, and Gerard didn't even try to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he took Frank's hand in his.

So, now hand in hand, they walked to Frank's apartment building. Gerard looked up at it, it looked nice from the outside, the building looked a little old, but it was a classy old, and in good condition. On the inside, though, nothing appeared old. It was modern, but not to the point of being overly cold and sterile.

No one even gave them weird looks or second glances as they stepped into the elevator. Gerard was actually feeling pretty enthused to be here. He was sneaking off to his boyfriend's apartment, and – holy shit. His boyfriend. Frank was his boyfriend. Technically, if they were now dating, which they were, then by definition that would meaning they were, in fact, boyfriends, wouldn't it? 

Neither had referred to the other as his boyfriend yet.

Frank pressed the number four, and the doors to the elevator closed soon after.

"So," Gerard began, Frank turned to him. "Technically, we're boyfriends now, right?"

"Technically," He smiled, giving Gerard's hand a squeeze. "We are."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, I googled an official list of sins. It really says jesting, and it has a definition beside it, 'speaking to make others laugh.' The fuck?


	22. Butterflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

So, yeah – Gerard was sneaking off to his adorable punk boyfriend's apartment. Pretty fucking cool – and if his parents or dance studio knew any of this, they would completely flip and the world might stand a real chance of imploding. Totally worth it.

Granted, nothing overly exciting was about to happen, they'd chill for a few hours, maybe Gerard would kiss him again, or better, Frank might kiss Gerard – but that was it, which was honestly pretty good.

It gave him a juvenile thrill, a small adrenaline rush to be defying his parents like this, and that was probably a bad thing, but Gerard couldn't help it. It was kind of exhilarating, too, being alone with Frank like this, and he had this happy tingle in his chest – it was arousing.

Gerard followed Frank out of the elevator, still holding hands, and down the hall. Frank stopped at his apartment door about half way down the hall, and unlocked it. He let go of Gerard's hand to motion for him to go in first.

"After you." Frank smiled, closed mouth. "Into my humble abode."

Gerard returned the smile, and stepped inside. He glanced around as Frank entered as well, and let the door close behind them. His apartment was nice. It wasn't like, prim, proper, and pristine or anything but it wasn't in total disarray. It was organized.

"Nice." Gerard commented.

"Yeah," Frank said, "I'll show you around – not that there's much else to see, but y'know."

Frank stepped further into the room and Gerard followed him closely. He pointed to the left.

"That's the kitchen, obviously." He said, and walked through the living room, "This is the living room." Frank motioned to the right with his head, "Shelf of movies and books and stuff."

He got to the back right of his apartment, where the was a door. He leaned against the frame, allowing enough space for Gerard to look in.

"And that's the bedroom. The bathroom is through there." He motioned to the door on the other side of the room.

Gerard nodded. "Cute."

He paused before adding, "So where do you keep the Pencey Prep cd?"

*

They sat on the couch, the player on the coffee table in front of them. Frank adjusted the volume to where they could talk over it but still hear it. He felt a little embarrassed for Gerard to be hearing it, honestly. But Gerard was excited to hear it.

"Hold on," Gerard said after hearing a few of the lyrics, "Is that – you? Singing?"

Embarrassment revealed itself on Frank's face, "Yeah. It's not that good, is it?" 

Gerard was surprised – that was really him singing, and it was cute, in a whiny, raw way. 

"No, no, I like it." He beamed, "Damn, you sound angry."

Frank chuckled and briefly glanced down, "Who's not angry in high school, honestly?"

"I second that." Gerard commented.

They talked while listening to the album, sometimes Gerard paused in the middle of the conversation because a lyric or a riff would catch his ear that he was interested in, and then resume back to what they were talking about. 

He asked about a few of the lyrics, what they meant – and Frank explained in detail. If he ever got deep when explaining he'd end it with a shrug and just be like, 'or something.' He always denied the compliments Gerard gave, unless it was about the sound of another member's instrument, to which Frank would agree.

Although Gerard enjoyed the record and hearing about it – so much, it made him feel a little sorry for Frank, always downplaying himself like that. That was the only aspect of Frank that Gerard wanted to change, to just give him some more confidence.

After it was over, Frank played something he knew Gerard would like, so that there'd be some back ground noise while they hung out. He sat back down and saw Gerard's eyes light up, just slightly, when he recognized the melody.

One of the first things Frank learned about Gerard was his love for, and understandable crush on David Bowie – and he knew Gerard loved Pin-Ups, so that's what he put on. That lead to Gerard going on a ten minute speech about Bowie and how he influenced modern music, and even fashion, and his massive impact on the world, and Frank agreed with every word.

The conversation came to a close, and they fell into a comfortable silence, just enjoying the music and each other's company. Everything felt peaceful now. There was a calmness that their presence brought to one another, it was soothing.

It was like they could breathe now, let go, just be – and be content with total confidence that they wouldn't be judged or hurt. When Frank looked at Gerard, it was this feeling of, 'I've finally found you', and Gerard felt the same way about him.

Gerard's eyes wandered to Frank, to his hand resting in his lap, to the lyrics around his wrist. While Frank was teaching, he wore long sleeves. Sometimes he rolled them up a little – and it had been cold every time they'd met up lately so he always wore a jacket, so Gerard had never really seen his arms. He wondered how many more tattoos he had – he knew it wasn't just the lyrics and the uneven legged scorpion.

Some of them were visible on his other arm, he couldn't tell what they were, though.

"How many tattoos do you have?" Gerard asked curiously.

"Eleven."

Gerard raised his eyebrows. "That's kind of a lot." He replied, "More than I was expecting, at least."

Frank smiled, "One day I want my whole body to be covered in tattoos, so I can just be one giant ink blot."

Gerard laughed. "Or walking art. What are you thinking about getting next?"

"I've actually been wanting the word Halloween across my knuckles for awhile, but I don't know. I'm probably gonna hold off on it." He replied.

"Why?"

"Mrs. Kovlov doesn't really like visible tattoos." He replied.

"What does she think about your scorpion, then?" Gerard asked.

"She detests it." Frank chuckled. "Are you thinking about getting a tattoo?" He asked, resting his head on his arm propped on the back of the couch. 

Gerard loved it when he looked at him like that, he looked at him like he was a real person, like he was actually listening.

"Fuck no," Gerard replied, "I am not a fan of needles, like at all."

"I never would have guessed that, seriously." Frank replied.

Gerard shrugged, "I love looking at them though. It's permanent art on a person."

He paused. That was way too subtle of a hint, it didn't even sound like a hint, so Gerard may as well say it out loud. "May I see the rest of your tattoos?"

Frank began to nod, "All but a few."

Gerard looked confused.

"They're on my thigh and back and chest." He replied awkwardly.

"Oh. Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't wanna show me that, then." Gerard replied, he didn't take it badly, he wouldn't wanna do that either if the roles were reversed.

"Someday, though." Frank added.

'Oh', Gerard thought, cause that wasn't suggestive or anything.

"Alright, so you know about this," He pointed to the lyrics on his wrist. "I got the scorpion to essentially force myself into never having a normal career." He pointed to he neck and turned his head slightly. Gerard sat forward to examine it.

"Why are the legs uneven?" Gerard asked, Frank looked back at him.

"Cause I only had forty-three dollars." He smiled.

Frank could practically see the light bulb go off in Gerard's head.

"Oh man." He said, "That's great."

Frank took off his jacket and rolled his left sleeve up to his shoulder. Gerard was surprised, to say the least.

He pointed to each of his tattoos and explained them one by one, sometimes Gerard would ask questions to which Frank would enthusiastically reply. Gerard lightly traced his finger over the lines of a few, commenting on how beautiful they were.

Gerard's favorite was probably the virgin Mary, he liked the way the colors contrasted and the way it looked on Frank's skin, plus it was religious imagery which he was interested in – and how Frank said she was Our Lady of Sorrows was intriguing.

*

Unfortunately, their time together was coming to a close. They talked for awhile after Frank discussed his tattoos, and before long it was twelve, and for Frank to get Gerard home and then himself back to his apartment to get his equipment and then go to set, it was about time they needed to leave. 

Frank checked the time on his phone, and reluctantly said, "So, it's twelve. We probably need to go."

"Yeah," Gerard said, "This was really fun – getting to hang out with you."

"Same," Frank smiled, "You're an interesting person, and nice to be around."

Gerard didn't say anything, they both just looked at each other and their minds were screaming to go in for a kiss, the moment was set up perfectly and it felt like the right thing to do. Gerard had scooted a lot closer during the conversation about Frank's tattoos, their knees were touching, the movement wouldn't be awkward, they were right in front of each other – and Frank was so close to just going for it, but something in him told him to ask first.

"Can I kiss you?" Frank asked.

Gerard nodded. "Mmhmm." He hummed softly.

Frank leaned forward, tilting his head to the side, and kissed Gerard's lips softly, carefully. It felt so innocent, and their butterflies seemed here to stay. Gerard pressed forward some, enjoying the feeling of Frank's lips on his, and being so near to him. Finally, they were together. Finally, things were feeling normal, even though this was all new. Finally, everything might be okay.


	23. Growing Inseparable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little longer to make up for it being so long overdue, so sorry about that, but I'll definitely be updating sooner next time.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

They pulled back, and both broke into smiles. 

"So much for no student involvement." Gerard said.

"Yeah, that ship kinda sailed, didn't it?" Frank laughed.

"With flying colors." Gerard added, leaning back in to kiss him again, longer this time. Frank pushed a strand of Gerard's hair behind his ear, letting his hand rest softly on his cheek. 

Everything felt so complete and warm, and daresay perfect. Yeah, this was perfect in Gerard's mind, and he hoped this wasn't going to be a short lived romance. How could it be, honestly? The things he felt were too intense, right? Frank felt the same way – although there were no doubts in his mind that this really wasn't a short lived romance. 

Frank wasn't much older than Gerard, but he had a fraction more experience in his life, and he knew himself and his feelings better than Gerard knew himself yet, but he was getting there increasingly fast. Feelings this fervid so soon in a relationship were rare, Frank knew that, he knew this was more than a fleeting love story. 

And that scared him a little, but just a little.

Maybe having such intense feelings for Gerard so soon was a mistake that was going to lead him into some serious heart ache, and worse, what if Frank somehow ended up hurting Gerard? What if Gerard wasn't ready for this? 'This' being a serious relationship.

Okay, slow down, Frank thought – they'd been officially together for a day. A fucking day. And not even a whole day, at that. He shouldn't be thinking about a serious relationship with Gerard after dating for half a day. But he was, and maybe it would prove to be a mistake in the long run, but Frank was too into the moment to think about it any more right now.

Gerard had never felt like this before, in more than one way. He'd never felt this way about a person, and he never felt this way about himself. He didn't understand it. He just couldn't comprehend it yet because it was so weird and new – but it felt good. It's like there was a sense of... he couldn't put his finger on it. 

Maturity was definitely part of what he felt, in his mind and body. He looked at Frank as an equal, he looked at Frank and felt comfortable and safe and home. Everything was just, right. Like the planets were fucking aligned, or what have you. And Gerard could say pretty confidently that he'd never wanted to love someone and take care of someone so gently before, he'd never wanted to make someone happy in this way so badly before, he'd never wanted someone to fuck him for more reasons than to just get off before. He'd never wanted to spend so much time with someone before because he wanted to be able to live life with Frank beside him, encourage him, hold him, share his life with him.

It was a level of emotion Gerard was unfamiliar with – and he figured it was just because he was generally an incredibly lonely person, and that that was why he felt like he could spend forever with Frank. Or maybe he was just really in love, and he hoped that was it, but the probability that he wasn't kept him from coming to a solid conclusion. You couldn't be in love with someone you knew for such a short amount of time, right?

It had to be unrealistic, Gerard figured. And probably unhealthy – way too intense, way too soon. Too heavy. They just started dating, this was supposed to be light and happy and they should, in no way, be feeling so passionately at the moment. Although it wasn't like the passion was dark and suffocating, or negative in any way. It felt fucking great, it really did. Just, y'know, intense and sudden.

However, because these feelings were so nice and undeniably strong, Gerard wasn't going to deprive himself of enjoyment, and he wasn't going to deprive himself of Frank, so as long as Frank was down, Gerard was just gonna go with it, and go for it.

He felt comfortable with Frank.

Frank pulled away just before it turned into making out – he knew if it turned into making out, he'd want it to turn into more than that, and he was gonna play it safe. Cause again – dating for half a fucking day. Yeah, couples got together and had sex pretty much immediately all the time, and that's totally fine – Frank just wanted to protect Gerard and make sure he felt safe.

Also, they had to leave or Frank would be late to set. Frank did not want to be late to set.

*

So without much further ado, they left the way they came in, car doors echoing in the garage as they slammed shut, and then they were off to Gerard's house. He felt like he'd gotten away with it, he was pretty sure, but of course Gerard couldn't help but worry that maybe he'd be busted the second Frank's car pulled up into the driveway. Today could have potentially been a faux pas of monumental proportions and his world may be about to come crashing down.

Gerard would like to think that, if that were the case, he wouldn't care and he wouldn't regret doing it, but he would. He so would. Because getting caught like this would mean a worse punishment than he dared to think. He could kiss dancing goodbye and would be monitored all the time. His parents would absolutely do that without hesitation – and he wouldn't have a life, he wouldn't have Frank, and he probably wouldn't have Mikey.

But there was a chance that he got away with this.

And the closer they got to his house, the better that chance looked. The only car in the driveway was Gerard's – promising. 

Frank pulled into the drive way and shifted the gears into park.

"The coast appears to be clear." Frank said, noting the single car.

Gerard unbuckled his seat belt, "I doubt they'll find out."

"Know how long you're grounded yet?" Frank asked.

Gerard shook his head and looked at Frank. "I don't even think they know how long I'm grounded. It's just whenever they think I've learned a lesson."

"Well," Frank sighed, "I don't wanna be a bad influence on you or anything, but when my parents were pissed at me, I'd suck up to them."

Gerard smiled. "So you're suggesting I manipulate my own parents?"

Frank shrugged, "Not suggesting – just throwing it out there as a possibility."

"Well, it's not like it could make things worse." Gerard stated, "And they manipulate me, so I can't be blamed for manipulating them, after all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

And that just confirmed what Frank worried about. His relationship with his parents wasn't that great after all, and now he was at a loss for words, cause how was he supposed to reply to that? 

They kind of just looked at each other, Gerard tried to read Frank's expression – he'd never alluded to anything about his parents being toxic to anyone outside of Mikey, who, unfortunately, was already well aware of it. 

Gerard looked down. "Y'know, I've never heard you talk about your parents." He looked back up at Frank, waiting for a reply.

"They kicked me out when I was eighteen." Frank replied, his voice quiet. Gerard could see that Frank was still hurting, that that wound hadn't healed yet. "So I moved here, lived with my aunt – I told you about her."

Gerard nodded, remembering a time during one of their conversations when he asked Frank how he started teaching.

"Why did they kick you out?" Gerard asked, his voice soft.

"They didn't want a gay son." Frank replied.

"That's shitty." Gerard stated, "I'm sorry, but that's fucking wrong."

"Yeah, it is." Frank said, "But you know what? I'm better without them. It still stings, but I'm free now and they're not weighing me down, I don't feel like a mistake anymore."

Gerard reached over and hugged him. "I'm proud of you."

"I'm proud of you too," Frank replied, giving him a squeeze, "You're strong – being able to deal with them."

They let go of each other.

"You'll get away from them one day." Frank said, "You'll travel the world and feel on top of it every night. I know you will."

*

As if by some miracle, Gerard did not get caught. Not only did he manage to get away with it that day, but he got away with it every day for the next week. Usually they'd go back to Frank's place, sometimes they'd get coffee, the amount of time they were out together varied, because of Frank's schedule – which delighted Gerard to no end, hearing about Frank's days on set.

With Friday being the last day they'd see each other until dance on Monday, they decided to make it a little more special, and go see a movie, it was some kind of drama.

It wasn't crowded at all in the theatre, just a few friend groups. Thankfully, they didn't see anyone they knew. Gerard led Frank up to the center top of the theatre, away from anyone else. They sat down just as the movie started, and Gerard reached over to hold Frank's hand. They mostly just watched, sometimes they'd whisper about the plot – and Frank would comment on the cinematography.

Sometimes when Gerard went over to Frank's apartment, they'd watch a movie, and in doing so, Gerard discovered that apparently if you're a film maker, you focus more on the technicality of the film rather than just the plot itself. It was pretty cute when Frank pointed out things he liked, it made Gerard look at movies with a different perspective.

And he could sort of relate to it, too, but with dancing instead of film making. Being a dancer himself, when he watched other people perform, he always kept an eye out for their technique.

Towards the end of the movie, Frank felt Gerard's head on his shoulder. Frank's arm was already around him, so he just pulled him closer. Frank genuinely wondered what could be better than this – and he couldn't come up with anything.

He kissed Gerard's head, which caused Gerard to lift up his head and look at Frank, before kissing him back on the lips. Who knows what the ending of the movie was like? Frank and Gerard sure didn't, that's for certain. The innocent kisses progressed into making out pretty soon after. 

It was easy to get lost in it, to just melt into each other and forget about everything else. The only thing that brought them back to earth was the lights coming on. They broke the kiss hesitantly, pulling back just enough so that their lips were barely touching, being still, and looking at each other.

Both were having a subtle moment of 'oh my god I finally found you. You're the one.' And gradually, with each passing moment, as much of a mistake as it may or may not be, they were growing more and more inseparable – and they hadn't even said their first 'I love you' yet.

Reluctantly, they both stood up and left, talking about what they thought of the movie, their hearts still high on one another. 

The sun was momentarily blinding when they stepped out into the parking lot, not a cloud in sight. They walked to Frank's car, side by side. Once they'd reached his car, Frank followed Gerard to the passengers side. Gerard leaned against the car with Frank inches in front of him. Gerard began to smile at this, he figured something good was about to happen.

And he wasn't disappointed – Frank stepped forward, now pressing against Gerard, and kissed him deeply.

It didn't last long enough, even if it lasted forever, that probably wouldn't have been long enough. Frank pulled back and paused, before telling Gerard the thing that was so prominent on his mind.

"I love you." He said.

"I love you, too." Gerard replied.

*

"You haven't said a word, Gerard. Is everything okay?" Lisa asked, sitting across the kitchen table from Gerard.

He nodded, "Yeah, everything's good." 

"Alright, then." Lisa replied, not sounding too convinced, "You can come to us any time, honey, you know that, right?"

"I know." Gerard replied, "Thanks." He gave her a quick smile.

He'd taken Frank's suggestion – or rather, the option he threw out, about sucking up to Tim and Lisa. Gerard had been careful to not start any arguments, he tried to stay in a good mood around them, and if Tim tried to start shit, Gerard wouldn't get into it with him. He'd smile and let it be.

Lisa was probably concerned because tonight he'd seemingly reverted back into not talking, thus giving the impression he was upset, when it really couldn't have been further from it. Frank told him he loved him earlier, and Gerard couldn't stop replaying it in his mind.

Things were really beginning to look up, his life was getting interesting suddenly. First, there was being accepted into Kovlov's studio, turning eighteen and realizing that he was old enough to start taking opportunities to advance his career, and Frank. 

He loved someone now – and someone loved him, too. He really fucking loved him.

Gerard got through the weekend pretty easily, he honestly hoped his parents would unground him, but no such luck. At least they weren't as pissed as they had been, though. They still went to church on Sunday – Gerard tried to zone out. 

He noticed someone on the pew across from him, he noticed him because he really stuck out. He was like, the only other teenager in the entire building, or at least, he looked like a teenager. And he also looked bored out of his fucking mind.

Whoever the blondie was caught Gerard looking, so Gerard looked away and back up at the preacher, reading a verse from the Bible. Something about some guy named Lot, and how his wife turned into a salt pillar. Totally legit, without question.

Gerard glanced back at the other guy now that he wasn't looking. He was wearing a fedora, and it actually really suited him. If Tim and Lisa really were planning to make going to church a regular thing, it might not be a bad idea to attempt to strike up a conversation with him. Maybe he could have a friend to make this experience a little less painful.

And then Gerard came to his senses and remembered that he fucking repelled 'friends'.

*

MAY

It felt good to be at dance on Monday – until Mrs. Kovlov interrupted Gerard's first class to ask for him to see her in her office.

He sat in front of her desk, waiting. He glanced around – dust was beginning to collect on those pictures lining her walls. Her desk was a little messier than usual, pens, bottles of ibuprofen, papers, some bobby pins were just laying out, not in order.

She looked up and took off her glances. Gerard dreaded whatever was coming next.

"I will make this short and sweet, dear." Mrs. Kovlov began, "You have an opportunity to audition to perform with a company for a few local shows."

Gerard just blinked, he was having trouble processing that.

"I'm sorry?" He said.

"A ballet company is traveling the nation, their run of shows begins in a few weeks, and you have an opportunity to audition to be in the New York performances." She clarified, smiling.

Of course Gerard was beyond words ecstatic and said absolutely he'd love to audition. Despite being old enough to not need his parents' consent, he figured it would be best to ask them, or preferably, let them know, because there was no way he was turning this audition down – since he was still grounded.

Mrs. Kovlov gave him permission to give his mom a call, stepping outside to do so.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, Frank was about fifteen minutes late to class because of filming. Mrs. Kovlov filled in during that time. When he walked into the class room, all the attention was immediately on him.

"Hey guys." He greeted, waving, and going over to his table.

"I'll leave it to you now, Frank." Mrs. Kovlov dismissed herself and exited quickly without another word.

He looked up just in time to see the door closing behind her.

"She in a bad mood or something?" He asked the class, who had stopped what they were doing and were now just standing at the bars.

The students mainly shrugged, some nodded yes. Frank gave them a confused look, hoping for a more elaborate answer.

"She keeps rubbing her eyes and blinking, and wiping her glasses. Like clockwork" Ronnie piped up. A few people muttered sounds of agreement, backing him up.

"Um, that's new." Frank said, "Thanks, Ronnie."

Frank figured he'd neglected his students enough for the day, he could wait and check on Mrs. Kovlov in forty-five minutes. After class, the students filed out like usual, leaving only Frank and Gerard. 

Gerard walked up after the last person left, smiling.

"Good news," Gerard began.

"Yeah? What's that?" Frank asked, he could spare a few more minutes.

"I have an audition." He beamed.

Frank raised his eyebrows and smiled, surprised.

"That's fantastic, Gerard!" He said, "Really, that's huge, congrats!"

He hugged Gerard tightly, feeling so happy for him.

"Thanks." Gerard said, his voice muffled from his mouth being pressed into Frank's shoulder.

They pulled away, Frank's hands sliding down Gerard's arms and lacing their fingers together.

"When?" Frank asked.

"This Friday." He replied.

"You're gonna be amazing." Frank encouraged, "I'm so proud of you, Gerard."

"Thanks." Gerard repeated.

Frank didn't want the moment to stop so soon, he wanted to keep celebrating and being happy with Gerard, but he needed to make sure Mrs. Kovlov was okay.

"Hey, I need to check on Mrs. Kovlov." Frank said, "Come with me?"

"How long will it take?" Gerard asked, "My mom's about to be here."

"Not long, I'm just gonna make sure her eyes are alright, since she was acting weird earlier." Frank replied.

"Okay."

As Frank suspected, Mrs. Kovlov was just fine, but he had rather be safe than sorry. She assured him, and Gerard accompanying him, that all was well and her prescription just needed an update.

Now back in the lobby, with Mrs. Kovlov still in her office and nobody around to see, Frank and Gerard could steal a kiss, and as they went their separate ways, they said goodbye, followed by an 'I love you' from both sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, the fedora guy is Patrick Stump.


	24. Sorry Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

The rest of that day on until the next Friday went by way too quickly. When Gerard was with Frank, no amount of time seemed to be enough. 

Knowing that Gerard had an audition coming up, he made himself work a little more rigorously, and more often. That same fucking place in his back would hurt again. It wasn't a throb and it wasn't sore, it was a shooting pain that would spike if he bent forward – but that was the only time it hurt. 

He tested it, bending over slowly to see far he could go until it would hurt, and he could feel the pain slowly building the farther he went, and – fuck, there it was, shooting from the center of his lower back. It had to be nothing – nothing that a pop couldn't fix.

In the middle of the week, Frank proposed the idea of showing Gerard how to play a little bit of guitar, to which he gladly agreed to. 

At first, he had trouble getting his fingers to move to the right places, but eventually he started to get the hang of it. When he got home, he tried to practice on his own guitar, he figured maybe in a few years, or like, decades, he might actually be good at it.

Never once did his parents catch him sneaking out – it'd be Gerard's luck to get caught sooner or later, though. He just hoped maybe it would be later, so much later that he could just go ahead and leave home.

Home.

That word never felt right when put into the context of where he lived. He lived at his house – it was just a house to him, maybe his parents felt differently about it. Mikey always looked at it as just being a house, too. Home was a special place that neither of them knew for a long time. 

When Mikey started dating Kristen a few years back, he told Gerard that it felt like he'd finally found home. Gerard didn't get it then – but now with Frank, he understood. Frank felt like home. 

Even though Frank was second guessing it and honestly feeling like it might be shooting himself in the foot, he brought up the subject of a serious relationship one afternoon. Frank waited until what felt like a good time to bring it up, and he kind of stumbled around the words at first. He'd never talked about a serious relationship with anyone. Come to think of it – he wasn't even sure if there was that much of a difference between them dating and 'being serious.' 

Like, if they weren't serious about it, why would they have even bothered, y'know?

Neither of them happened to be polyamorous, so with that, the only difference Frank saw in just dating vs. being serious was firstly, staying committed to each other and not sleeping with other people, not that they'd even slept together yet – actually, they hadn't even discussed doing anything of that that nature together at all. Although that's not to say they hadn't thought about it.

It hadn't felt like the right time to do anything sexual yet, and Frank didn't want to do anything until everything felt right, and the mood was perfect, and he knew Gerard was ready. Gerard, however, would've been absolutely ready for anything, had Frank wanted to do something. But it's not like he could just casually say 'hey if you wanna fuck I'm down whenever.'

Well, he actually could say that, he just figured he shouldn't.

Anyway, the second thing Frank guessed went into a serious relationship was being in it for the long haul. He personally felt ready to be with Gerard long-term. Like, even if there were no romantic feelings in their relationship what-so-ever, he'd want to know Gerard for a long time cause he thought he was a great guy and enjoyed his company. But there were romantic feelings, which only added to it. They were good friends, who happened to love each other more than just friends.

Or at least, that's how Frank felt, and because he didn't know for sure if Gerard felt that way, he was going to ask. Maybe because he was only eighteen, Gerard wouldn't want to 'tie himself down' so soon. And Frank would never know unless he asked, so that's exactly what he did.

He put his guitar back on the stand, and turned to start back to the couch where Gerard was.

"So," Frank began, sitting down. He inhaled deeply, trying to think of a good way to word it.

"Yeah?" Gerard asked. He scooted closer and faced Frank, sitting cross-legged.

Frank glanced at him, just sitting there waiting for him to start talking again, looking so genuinely interested in what he was about to say, and Frank realized that no matter what he said, it would be fine, because Gerard trusted him and he trusted Gerard. There was nothing to be nervous about.

"About our relationship." Frank stated.

"Are you about to break up with me?" Gerard asked, half kidding.

"No, no way." Frank clarified, "Not at all, and that's kinda what I wanna talk about."

Gerard nodded slowly, waiting for him to continue.

"Do you want this to be a serious relationship?" Frank asked point blank. "Like, do you wanna be with me long-term?"

Gerard thought it over. He hadn't really out right thought about being with Frank long term, he just sort of lived in the moment. Although he never really considered they might break up one day, that was pretty much the extent of the thought he put into it. Maybe he thought about it subconsciously. 

"Honestly, I've never really thought about it before." Gerard replied.

"Yeah, I mean, I'm not trying to make it sound heavy or intimidating or anything like that." Frank said, "I just figured, y'know, you're only eighteen, you might not wanna be tied down so soon."

"Tied down?" Gerard asked, "Really?"

Frank shrugged.

"You don't tie me down." Gerard continued. "Is that how you feel?"

"No." Frank replied, "The way I feel about you is different from how I've felt about anyone, and quite honestly, I don't think I'll ever be as happy with someone else. And in terms of sex – I just." He paused and shrugged again, "I don't care, y'know? The idea of not sleeping with anyone else doesn't bother me." 

"Well, good, I guess." He laughed. "Cause that's how I feel. So um, being long-term – I'd like that. You make me feel like I'm finally home."

It felt relieving that they'd started to discuss this, and in the end, they came to the conclusion to stay committed to each other, unless sometime down the road, one of them became unhappy. But it didn't look like that'd be happening any time soon. They were ultimately best friends, who doubled as lovers.

So, they were just going to continue living as they were, doing what they'd normally do in their day to day lives, with the exception of being together when they could. Not because it felt like they had to now that they'd labeled themselves as 'serious', but because they wanted to. They wanted to be in each other's presence because they loved it – they loved each other.

*

Of course, word got around in the studio that Gerard had an audition on Friday, and somehow things got even more spiteful. 

Mrs. Kovlov's eyesight was better, which came as a huge relief to Frank. 

She didn't act upon Allie's last report – and she knew she may have messed up by not doing so, but she truly believed Frank was innocent. He would never have a relationship with a student, and unless she saw them together herself, or an abundance of people reported it, she wasn't planning on bringing it up.

Later, while Lisa was driving Gerard home, she asked how class went. Gerard told her about it, it went okay, nothing special. The kids somehow hated his guts even more now, though.

"They're just jealous." She replied.

"Maybe." Gerard replied. He didn't believe her, she was just saying that because she didn't know what else to tell him. "You'll be able to drive me to the audition, right?"

"I think your father is doing that." Lisa replied.

Tim was already home by the time Gerard and Lisa got there, the first thing Gerard did was corner him in the living room and double check to see if Tim was driving him to the audition.

Of course, he turned it around so that it seemed like a fucking burden to take Gerard, to which Gerard may have seriously screwed up by snapping back.

"If I make your life as hellish as it sounds then just give me back my stuff so I can leave." He retorted, and immediately realized that he may as well have just tied the knot to his own noose.

Lisa, who was in the kitchen, stopped in the middle of what she was doing and the house became silent. Tim was aghast, and Gerard was beginning to panic. The entire house was just still, it felt like a ticking bomb about to explode. Gerard was terrified of what Tim might do. He could say whatever he wanted and at the end of the day, hurtful or not, they were just words.

But after saying something of that caliber, Tim was not going to be that kind. He had never been one to physically harm his kids. Yes, he'd threatened to plenty of times, but his words were just empty, it was a scare tactic to get them to behave. 

Gerard would've given anything to be able to evaporate, or melt into the carpet, or just run. Running sounded like a good plan, but he wasn't five years old and there was nowhere to go so that would just back fire. There probably wasn't anything he could say that would make it better. Tim was probably going to have him taken out of dance, take away every one of his possessions, and possibly even put bars on all the windows. 

Alright, maybe not the last one, but he would definitely lose his freedom for good this time. There wouldn't be any more sneaking out, they'd put a stop to that whether they knew about it or not. 

It felt like the three of them were standing in that house staring at each other for an eternity. Gerard wanted to cry, he was terrified and angry and the only sound he could hear was his own heart beating, about to beat right out of his chest – and he only wished he could take that back when Tim opened his mouth to speak.

Before Tim could say anything Gerard blurted, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that."


	25. Shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

"Go to your fucking room!" Tim bellowed.

Gerard was definitely fucked.

He got out of their as swiftly and gracefully as he could, not bothering to glance at Lisa and see her reaction – he just kept his eyes on the ground and didn't stop walking. Before he even reached the bottom of the stairs to his room, he was texting Mikey, telling him in as few words as he could that he had messed up and Mom and Dad were angry. 

After he sent it, he texted Frank the same thing, adding that he didn't know if he'd be able to sneak out any time soon. And just to be safe, in case his parents took his phone and went through it, he deleted the message after it delivered.

Gerard sat on his bed, too afraid to even cry at this point. He could hear his parents upstairs, their voices raised above normal speaking volume, but he couldn't tell what they were saying.

He jumped when his phone buzzed. It was Mikey, saying that he was calling Tim right now.

All Gerard could do was wait, and rip his mind apart while doing so.

*

Frank was driving back to his apartment after grabbing a bite to eat when he got a text. He got his phone out of his pocket at a red light, keeping the road in his peripheral vision, he read it. 

He didn't know how bad the situation was or if it was no big deal at all, but regardless, he was going to call and make sure Gerard was alright.

The phone rang as the light turned green, and Frank drove cautiously. Two rings later, and Gerard picked up the phone.

"Hey, are you alright?" Frank asked.

"No, I fucked up." Gerard replied, he talked quietly but Frank could hear the panic in his voice, "I fucked up so bad, Frank. Mikey called Dad, he's talking to him, but it's not gonna change anything, he's gonna fucking kill me."

"Hold on, he's not gonna kill you." Frank said, trying to make his voice sound soothing. Apparently this situation was pretty bad. "You'll be fine, babe, I promise."

Gerard didn't reply for a few seconds. 

"I think they're gonna take me out of dance, they'll make me go to public school, they're gonna control everything I do. I just ruined my own life, I just ruined my chances of ever fucking living." Gerard said, his voice breaking.

"Do you need me to come get you right now?" Frank offered, it hurt to hear Gerard sounding like that and knowing how scared he must be. "I'm ten minutes away."

"You can't," Gerard replied, "I wish you could, but it'd make it worse."

"Okay." Frank said, "If you need me, I'm here. It's gonna be alright. What did you say to them?"

"If I make their life as hellish as they say then I should just leave." Gerard retold. "I meant it. I didn't mean to say it but I meant it – shit, I gotta go. My dad's yelling for me."

"Alright, I know you can handle it, Gerard." Frank said, "I love you."

"I love you, too." Gerard replied, "Bye."

Gerard felt like his time was up while he climbed the stairs, but he had this thought – Mikey had told him this multiple times, but it was always just something Mikey said, it didn't resonate. But Gerard currently understood it and felt it in his bones inside and out.

He did not deserve to be treated like this.

He was eighteen fucking years old, a practical baby in the grand scheme of things, but old enough to think, do, speak, and care for himself and not take his parents' bullshit. He was a person, and he wouldn't stand for being treated so terribly.

His parents were the main reason he'd never had much self esteem. They caused him to hate himself on bad days. On good days, he was still never proud of himself, no matter how hard he tried to overlook it and ignore those thoughts.

Standing up for himself may indeed lead to his demise, but it was worth a shot. If he just took it, his life might be about to end – or may as well end. And if he metaphorically fought back, there was a chance his life could end but there was a chance something good might happen.

Weighing the pros and cons, he was fucked either way, so Gerard decided to stand up for himself for once.

Tim and Lisa were congregated at the kitchen table, Gerard wordlessly walked over and sat opposite of them, an empty, glass vase between them in the middle of the table. He still felt rattled and sick to his stomach, but not about to back down.

They were in a rare form of angry, and it was apparent that this was something Gerard might never live down, his parents wouldn't be forgetting this any time soon and they looked ready to go off any second.

"Mikey called." Lisa began, "But it's not helping your case this time."

"What is going on with you?" Tim asked sternly.

"What do you mean?" Gerard asked. That could mean several different things.

"Don't you fucking play that game with me, Gerard." Tim snapped. "Why are you acting like this? What's happened to you lately? Disrespecting us like you've been doing."

"I'm not disrespecting you." Gerard stated, he couldn't mask the worry in his tone.

"Lying isn't worth it," Lisa piped up, "Be honest with us."

"I am being honest." Gerard replied. 

"You've been acting like this since you started dancing at that new studio." Lisa said, "Is it the kids? Are you being bullied?"

"It's his fucking ego." Tim butt in.

"Is it because you're eighteen now?" Lisa continued, "Are you rebelling?"

That's seriously the best they could come up with? Not the fact that he was sick of their mental abuse?

"I swear to god," Tim said, "If this has something to do with that teacher-"

"Does it?" Lisa demanded, cutting Tim off, "Is that what this is all about?"

"No." Gerard replied honestly, "It's about having been abused mentally for years."

"Excuse me?" Lisa said.

"You're mentally abusive!" Gerard raised his voice, "You're the reason Mikey left as soon as he could, and he's never coming back, he told me that. You're the reason why I hate myself so fucking much and I always have!"

"You watch your language, boy," Tim said, getting up suddenly and causing Gerard to instinctively flinch, "Don't you dare think you can speak to us like that."

Lisa just looked off to the side and shook her head solemnly.

Tim glared down at Gerard, "It hurts that you would accuse me and your mother of abuse, we love you and Mikey more than anything and you know that."

"Then why don't you act like it?" Gerard added.

Tim was red in the face with anger, and he looked terrifying. He inhaled sharply, and briefly glanced at his immediate surroundings. The nearest object was the vase, so he picked it up and hurled it onto the wall with all he had. It shattered.

Gerard and Lisa flinched when it collided with the wall, they were stunned into silence, both afraid now – yeah, even Lisa. This situation just escalated farther than either of them had seen before, and it was dangerous.

Thoughts went through Gerard's mind about getting out of here – like, not leaving the room for his own safety, but moving out of the house forever, because it was becoming apparent that he was not as safe as he thought if Tim was going to continue to be violent and unpredictable. How Gerard was going to get the keys to his car back, his iPod and computer, and continue dance lessons could be figured out later.

It was scary just how real leaving became at that moment. This was something that was bound to happen soon, under unfortunate circumstances.

How fast could he leave? He could always get his possessions later, he knew where the spare key was. When could he leave? Definitely not right now, maybe within the next few days. And perhaps the most intimidating and uncertain question of all – where would he go?

Gerard didn't like it, but he could only think of a couple of possibilities. He could live with Mikey and Kristen, which would be awkward and uncomfortable seeing as how they lived together as independent adults who were probably getting married soon, and although Gerard knew they wouldn't have a problem with him being there, he'd feel awfully shitty about taking up their space and taking away their privacy. 

Not only that, but it would make it nearly impossible to see Frank or take classes with Mrs. Kovlov. Actually, as if distance with dance was even a factor – distance didn't even matter, because in that scenario, Tim and Lisa would stop paying for classes and Gerard currently had no means of income.

Not to mention, how was homeschool going to work out while he was living elsewhere? It could work – but would his parents let it?

So there was the option of living with Mikey and Kristen, which left him to give up a hell of a lot and invade their space – and then there was one more option, which would be more convenient, but it made Gerard feel guilty for even considering it. How was he supposed to ask for such a thing when he'd only been dating Frank for a few weeks?

Gerard could live with Frank, maybe. On the off chance his parents would still pay for dance, he'd still be able to take classes and be near opportunities. But like with Mikey and Kristen, he'd be taking up Frank's space. There was still the possible issue with school. Not to mention again, him and Frank had only been dating for a few fucking weeks, goddamn it, there was no way it could work and Gerard absolutely could not ask that of him.

"Tim." Lisa said finally, actually it sounded more like a question. 

Gerard snapped out of his thoughts of escape and returned to the moment, how he and Lisa were both shocked and pressed still against their chairs as Tim stood, fists clenching and unclenching. He was still red faced and tensed up.

Wordlessly, Tim stepped around the table, to the other side in front of Gerard. Much to Gerard's horror, Tim reached down and grabbed his upper arms, he jerked him up to his feet and Gerard did not try to resist. 

Tim held him painfully tight and looked down at his son directly in the eyes, trying to make him feel dominated and scare him into silence and obedience. It absolutely worked. Gerard was scared out of his mind, wide eyed, and kept his mouth shut. Tim had never laid a hand on him before.

It felt like forever, but it was only seconds until Lisa had sprung to her feet and was calling Tim's name. She touched his back gently, still repeating his name and telling him to stop.

Gerard was too afraid to break eye contact with Tim – it felt like he was gazing into the eyes of a monster, a monster who glared back and saw into his ever-loving soul, reading his thoughts, knowing his secrets, his mind felt violated and Gerard realized how vulnerable he was in that moment.

His arms were stinging from Tim's grip, and he wasn't loosening up.

"Tim, Tim, honey, stop. Calm down." Lisa said, not trying to hide the worry in her voice. "Leave him be."

Without warning, Tim forcefully pushed Gerard back down into his seat, the unexpectedness causing Gerard to nearly fall off. He felt petrified, and like his world had completely flopped upside down at the revelation of this new side of Tim, and there was no coming back from it.

Tim immediately left the room in a huff, going up to his and Lisa's bedroom. Lisa and Gerard stayed frozen where they were and held their breath until they heard the door slam hard, causing them to both jump.

After things were still for a second, and it had completely settled in their minds as to what just happened, they both began breathing again. Gerard looked up at Lisa, she was beginning to cry. He stood up on shaky legs to go and comfort her, but the roles reversed, and she held him close, crying silently. Gerard felt emotions sweeping over him, and began to cry with her, hiding his face in her neck.

She kissed the top of his head. "I'm so sorry, baby." She whispered.

They stayed like that for awhile, Lisa holding him and calming herself down – Gerard allowing himself to be vulnerable with his mom after having surrendered to fear, trying to be comforted by her. It felt strange being held by his mom again, she'd hardly touched him affectionately at all since he'd been a teenager. It was strange being taller than her, her frame felt so small.

Gerard just tried to breathe, tried to stop shaking. They stood there for so long, and lost some time trying to recover from the previous scare. Gerard did not feel safe anymore.

After Lisa felt Gerard calming down, she pulled back and lifted up his chin to look at him. The tip of his nose was red, and his eyes were wet and puffy. He didn't make eye contact with her. 

She felt so guilty. She knew it wasn't her fault, but she felt awful seeing her child crying and scared. And Lisa felt scared herself, she had no idea Tim was going to do that. She didn't even know Tim was capable of such behavior. 

Lisa realized they never had dinner. If Tim wanted to stay in his room and sulk, so be it – she fixed a snack for her and Gerard, despite their lack of appetites. She'd clean up the shards of glass afterward, they weren't in the way.

They sat close at the table, trying to come up with something to talk about over sandwiches.

"Gerard," Lisa began softly, "You can be honest with me, I promise I won't be mad. Why are you acting differently?"

"I told you." Gerard replied, his voice emotionless and drained, "You're mentally abusive. It's mostly Dad, but you do it too sometimes."

Lisa nodded. "Well, I don't think so, but it seems that's what you believe." She paused, "Is that all?" 

"That's all." Gerard replied.

"I won't be mad, honey – you're sure?" Lisa kept on, "You're not being bullied, or rebelling, or..." She trailed off. It most likely had nothing to do with Frank. Sure, this behavior started coincidentally upon meeting him and he did speak of Frank favorably, and they'd gone a few places together, but it was probably nothing more than an acquaintance – but even acquaintances could have influences on people.

She didn't know that much about Frank other than he taught dance, he was gay, and he had tattoos and piercings, which Lisa wasn't too thrilled with. But, what he looked like on the outside didn't necessarily reflect who he was on the inside. For all Lisa knew, he could be the sweetest guy out there.

But there was just as much of a chance that Frank was a bad influence, and being a parent, she had to cover all the bases. "Or Frank?" She continued.

"Why are you so concerned with Frank?" Gerard asked, "Do you think I have a crush on him or something?"

Lisa hadn't really thought about that. Tim had, Lisa was never convinced.

"No," She said, "I'm just worried he might be a bad influence."

Gerard couldn't help but laugh – a small, tired laugh. She'd never suspected more than a friendship after all.

"He's not." He replied, "I promise."

Before they went to bed, Lisa gave in and gave Gerard his stuff back. She didn't unground him, though. He still wasn't allowed to go anywhere except for dance, but he could at least drive himself now.

She told him that Tim wouldn't be happy about it – and she warned him that she would do everything she could to keep him from blowing up tomorrow – and that there was still more Tim had wanted to discuss, but Lisa would attempt to talk him out of it.

He thanked her, kept her company while she cleaned up the glass, and went down to his room afterward.

It warmed his heart in a painful way to see that he had messages from both Mikey and Frank asking if things went well. He messaged Mikey first, explaining all the details and feeling tears start welling up again as he recalled Tim's outburst. 

He figured he would be up awhile texting back and forth with Mikey, he always was in situations like this – although this was worse than ever.

It felt like it should be really late at night, but it was only eight-ish.

Then he texted Frank, saying that it was over with for the night. He didn't wanna go into such explicit detail as he did with Mikey, Frank didn't ask any of that and Gerard didn't know how much he should tell him – if anything.

Gerard wasn't a big fan of talking on the phone – neither was Mikey, that's why they only called anyone if something big was up. It didn't take long for Gerard to pick up on the fact that Frank didn't really do that, and instead he'd just call to talk if the conversation wouldn't be over in a matter of ten or less messages.

So, Gerard's phone rang, and it was Frank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	26. Conflictions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little long compared to the rest, I hope to start writing longer chapters! And although I'm not 100% sure, the story may be about to be skipping some time - I still want to make this timeline at least 2 years and I hope you see where I'm coming from when I say I don't want to write 700+ individual detailed days cause that'd probably get pretty boring to read.  
> Follow me on tumblr updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

"Hey." Gerard answered, laying down.

"What happened?" Frank asked.

Gerard shifted to his side, wrapping his free arm around himself. "Well, first they asked why I've been acting differently, I told them the truth – I'm sick of the way they treat me. My dad got angry and he – um, he threw a vase at the wall and left and--"

"Left?" 

"The room, yeah." Gerard said, "He just left the room and my mom and I were really shocked, so after that wore off, we talked. She was worried you were a bad influence on me, she never suspected anything about us being more than friends, and then she gave my stuff back and went to bed."

Frank was silent for a second, "That's all?" 

"Pretty much." Gerard replied, "I think he's still wanting to talk, though."

Gerard heard Frank sigh.

"Good," Frank said, "I knew you could handle it. Are you doing okay, though?"

Frank felt bad. He felt bad that he couldn't be there with Gerard, all he could do was just try to offer words of support via the phone, he wished he could do so much more. Gerard deserved more.

"I'm still a little shaken up." Gerard replied honestly, "But I'm okay."

"Good." Frank repeated. "You know I'm here if you need anything, right?"

"Mmhmm." Gerard said, and then he remembered one of the panicked thoughts he had earlier. "Anything?"

"Absolutely anything at all." Frank reassured.

Gerard wanted to ask about living with him – he wanted to so much, but he just couldn't bring himself to it, he was beginning to talk himself out of it, anyway.

When Gerard didn't say anything, Frank continued, "Is there something you want me to do?"

He couldn't lie. He could – but he wouldn't. Not to Frank.

Gerard figured he wouldn't outright ask to live with him, and although he saw that as one of his only options at the time of thinking it, now that the situation wasn't as dire or panicked and he could think about it a little more thoroughly – he thought it best to ask if Frank would let him stay over for longer periods of time. Use his apartment as a place to go when things got bad – nothing permanent.

"Um – maybe." Gerard began, "So, my dad's never been violent before, and to tell you the truth, it really scared me, and I didn't feel safe. Would it be okay if I stayed with you if he ever does that again?"

"Definitely." Frank said, "Yeah, of course that's okay. You're more than welcome to come over any time for however long you want."

"Are you sure?" 

"Of course, babe." Frank replied.

Frank had only called Gerard 'babe' a few times, and it made his heart flutter. He felt a little better knowing Frank was okay with him staying there – if he needed to. Gerard was still afraid, though. And he knew it wasn't over yet. He didn't know if tomorrow would be worse or not, and he was so tired, but he didn't wanna sleep yet, because he knew if he were to go to sleep, tomorrow would come sooner than he was ready for.

Gerard ended up having his conversation with Mikey via texting while still on the phone with Frank. Technology was pretty fuckin' cool like that.

It really was nice being supported by two of his favorite people, though – it helped him to calm down even more. He and Frank didn't even talk that much while he messaged Mikey – it was mostly silence between them, but it was comforting. It felt sweet knowing Frank genuinely cared.

Somehow, Mikey always knew the right words to say. He knew the perfect way to word his sentences to Gerard, how to reach out and make him feel better. Mikey seemed to know exactly what Gerard was going through, and he had the words to get him through it. 

Maybe it was because Mikey had to go through the same thing, and he was just telling Gerard the words Mikey wished someone could have told him all those years.

It stung knowing Mikey had to always keep up a brave face, no one knew the shit he went through and no one comforted him. Gerard wished he could've done more about it while he could have – he did all he could but at the time he didn't know the full extent of it until he was already gone.

But he had Kristen now – and Mikey seemed happier than ever since she'd come into his life. He finally found someone that made him feel loved in a way Gerard could never do, and on top of that, he was away from Tim and Lisa, and not planning on coming back.

The only reason he still came around was for Gerard. Once he moved out, the ties would be cut with his parents, unless they really needed him for something. 

So, things turned out alright for Mikey. He was okay now, and that was reassuring.

It took about an hour before their conversation came to a close, Gerard could hardly keep his eyes open by that point. Something about being forcefully grabbed by the arms by your own dad in a threatening, dangerous manor and being left to cry on your mom's shoulder for thirty minutes really drained a person.

Gerard had busied himself during the conversations. He put the things Lisa returned where they belonged, raided the alcoholic stash under his bed with just a minor hint of guilt – not even drinking enough to get drunk, and although it upset him terribly, he had also tidied up his room a little, stacking things together, generally making all of his things aside from the furniture easier to pack up in case he really had to leave in a hurry one day and not go back.

How fucked that this was his life. How fucked that this was also other kids' lives. Fucking sick.

Gerard laid back down, and buried himself under the covers. A little bit of air crept in from where his charger cable was connected to his phone, still pressed to his ear.

His body felt heavy and warm, and his eyelids just wouldn't stay open, so he gave up the fight and closed them, snuggling deeper in the covers. It felt like his brain was powering down and he was barely able to form coherent words.

"'M 'bout to fall asleep." Gerard slurred.

He was barely able to remember Frank telling him goodnight, he loved him, and to stay safe, before Gerard was already drifting off to sleep, finally feeling warm and safe, for as little time as it may or may not prove to be.

The next day came far too soon, Gerard woke up drowsy with a slight head ache, and it didn't take long until the memories from the night before came back in vivid detail. He didn't get up at first, he didn't even move. He just laid there trying to process everything – get his mind straight until he felt awake enough to get up.

He glanced at the clock – Tim and Lisa were already at work, so that was relieving. 

First thing was first, he needed to get rid of that head ache before it got worse. He took tylenol, and went over to his closet to pick out some clothes and get dressed. There was a thin full length mirror hanging on the inside of his closet door, he looked at himself taking off his shirt, and saw bruises on his upper arms from Tim's hands.

*

The weather was getting a little warmer – fucking finally. It was almost one of those times of the year when it wasn't so cold it was miserable but not at all so hot it was suffocating, it was beginning to feel just perfect for Frank as he left the set for the day, stopped by his apartment to drop off his equipment, and start to the studio a few minutes earlier than usual.

He was looking forward to seeing Gerard – not that he wasn't always, but today was different. He needed to see for himself that he was okay. He still felt guilty for not being able to physically be with Gerard last night, although he knew he couldn't have. Gerard was right when he said it would make it worse. He wasn't upset with Frank by any means, but Frank still felt like making up for it.

The new teacher, who, by now could hardly be referred to as new, wouldn't mind Frank peeking into her class. So he did, and scanned across the room. The students were running through the routine, the choreography looked pretty good. It came as a surprise to see Gerard not giving it his all for once. 

After the time they'd spent together in the class room, Frank could tell when Gerard was trying versus just going through it. There was no doubt in Frank's mind that it was because of what happened last night. The whole thing with the vase must've been pretty awful – along with who knows what else happened that Frank didn't know about.

He didn't expect Gerard to spill everything in explicit detail, so he figured it was worse than he'd made it sound over the phone.

Gerard caught Frank's eye, and gave him a closed-mouth smile, which Frank returned.

Frank entered the class room the second the other teach dismissed them. The class disbanded into smaller friend groups, some went to get a sip of water, some just laid down on the floor to cool off.

Gerard was past the point of caring about what it looked like, what people would think, whether it was wrong or not, and just went straight to Frank. He knew better than to hug him – that might look a little too weird, unfortunately. It'd be great when they didn't have to pretend.

The other teacher left as Gerard met Frank, changing the CD in the player.

"Hey," Frank greeted, "How are you feeling?"

Gerard shrugged, "Just tired."

Frank looked up and surveyed him – he did look tired, his eyes were a little puffy. Frank didn't know how to show him affection in a way that wouldn't get them reported, so he opted for just reaching out and touching Gerard's arm lightly.

He noticed Gerard look down. 

"Something wrong?" Frank asked attentively.

Gerard shook his head, but Frank wasn't convinced.

"Can you stay after class?" Frank asked.

"Yeah," Gerard looked up, "I drove myself."

As Frank asked, Gerard stayed after the rest of the students had left. His dragging around, going slow while putting his shoes on wasn't intentional today. Frank sat so close beside him in the back of the room that the sides of their thighs touched. No one was looking – he wrapped Gerard in a compassionate, tight hug. Frank wanted to give him all the love he could.

It felt like Gerard could finally relax and give in to the last bit of pent up emotions he had, but he kept himself from it, he just tried to focus on being in Frank's arms, take in the softness and comfort surrounding him, and tune out everything else.

The sound and vibration of Frank's voice brought him back to reality.

"You'll get through it." He assured.

They pulled away, and Gerard sighed. He sat with his elbows propped on his knees, and hid his face in his hands. He willed away the tears he could feel beginning to build, and let Frank's words repeat in his mind. He would get through it. He would.

Frank understood that Gerard was having some kind of private moment, and he didn't pester him. He looked him up and down while he sat there – he was so fucking beautiful but hurting so bad. Frank knew he had scars that he couldn't see – scars that were internal, and... What the fuck was that? 

He knew what it looked like, and he felt a twinge of anger.

"Gerard?" Frank said. Gerard looked up at him.

Frank glanced at his arm, concern in his eyes – he didn't need to say a word, Gerard knew what he saw and there was no sense in trying to hide it now.

"He grabbed me by the arms." Gerard replied flatly, Frank didn't need the details, he understood right away that Tim had done this last night, and Frank had no idea how to react. His boyfriend's dad was abusing him. How long had that been going on? How bad was it?

"How long has he been hurting you?" Frank asked.

"Just last night. He's never done anything like that before, I don't know if he will again, but I'm fucking terrified." Gerard confessed.

"Gee, you – you can't stay there." Frank said before he even knew he was saying it.

"Where am I supposed to go?" Gerard asked, "I can't live with Mikey, I'd never see you. And if I left they'd take me out of dance and have me in public school."

Sometimes Frank forgot Gerard was still in school and dependent on his parents. For him, leaving wouldn't be as easy as Frank initially thought. But his safety was at stake now, he had to do something. He couldn't stay in that environment no matter what the cost.

As much as Frank would have loved to, he couldn't pay for Gerard to take lessons. Between the daily expense of living and the rent for his apartment, Mrs. Kovlov's classes were too expensive with Frank's current salary. Not that that might even matter if Gerard were to live with Frank, because if his parents really put him in public school, he would barely have time for dance. Gerard would never be able to dedicate himself and put in as much time as he needed if he was going to dance professionally.

Gerard was conflicted, stuck between a rock and a hard place. Get out and lose almost everything he cared about, or continue to live in a toxic, abusive household. The answer was simple in Frank's mind, get the fuck out. Gerard needed to take care of himself above all else.

But Gerard didn't think like that. No matter how fearful it became at home, he lived to perform. Without it, he felt like he may as well not exist. His world revolved around dancing and the thought of not being able to made him sick. Of course he wanted out of his house and away from his parents, but if it meant he could still dance, he would fucking suffer through it. 

It was just one more year until he wouldn't have to worry about school, a lot of opportunities could come up in that year, and he could finally leave then and not ever have to look back. So in Gerard's mind, the answer was also simple, but completely different. Endure it, stay with Frank when it got bad, and only leave for good if it came to the unimaginable.

It actually was imaginable – Gerard had definitely imagined it and freaked himself out, that's why he cleaned his room and made his stuff accessible – he just really did not enjoy imagining it, at all.

"Live with me." Frank offered, "I know how it sounds, I know we've only been together for a few weeks but what better option is there?"

"There's not." Gerard replied, "I know that's the smartest thing to do but I don't think I'm gonna do it." He paused. "Dancing is breathing, it's all I want, it's the reason I fucking exist. I can suffer through one more year, and it's not even a full year now."

"Gerard, it's your safety!" Frank protested.

"And I'll stay with you when it's not safe." Gerard continued.

"It stopped being safe last night." Frank said, "There's no going back from that."

"You think I don't know that?" Gerard was beginning to get worked up, "I can't leave, Frank. I won't have anything to live for, they'll take my life away."

Frank became aware that they were not going to agree on this, and if they kept it up it was going to turn into an argument. He wasn't happy about it, and he knew Gerard was making a huge mistake, but continuing to try and convince him otherwise was pointless. And the last thing Frank wanted to do was to accidentally drive Gerard away or make him feel worse than he already did.

"I'm sorry." Frank apologized, "I didn't mean to make you upset."

"It's not your fault." Gerard replied.

"Are you angry with me?" Frank asked.

"No," Gerard said, "I could never be angry with you, I fucking love you." He pulled Frank into a desperate hug – just needing to be close to him.

"I love you, too." Frank squeezed him softly, "So much."

*

It felt good to be independent again, it was refreshing for Gerard, being able to drive himself to and from dance again. He had some time to think on the way home – last night, Lisa was unusually sympathetic. Gerard assumed it was because of the scare with Tim, and it's like Gerard had told Frank once before – the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Gerard was going to take advantage of Lisa's sympathy when he got home.

It seemed like the best thing to do. He needed at least one parent on his side to be understanding if he was going to run off and seek refuge when things got shitty. If not, the turmoil waiting for him when he got back after just bolting like that with no explanation might be worse than what caused him to leave in the first place.

Lisa got home fifteen minutes after Gerard. He met her in the living room, and sat beside her on the couch.

He'd already changed into normal clothes, but he was still wearing short sleeves, and Lisa's first concern was the visible bruising. He let her fuss about them, run her fingers over them, and tug his sleeves down, while he thought about the best way to bring up what he needed to talk to her about.

"Please keep them covered, honey." Lisa asked, "No one needs to see, no one needs to know."

"Frank knows." Gerard admitted.

Lisa paused.

"Excuse me?" She said.

"Frank saw them – he knows." Gerard repeated.

Lisa did not know how to react, she continued to stare at him, obviously worried.

"Mom," Gerard began, "I need you to be understanding right now. Just please listen to me. Frank said if Dad ever gets violent again, I can go to his apartment until things cool off." He tried to read her expression, but he couldn't figure out what she was thinking, so he continued, "I don't feel safe here."

That last sentence ripped her heart out. Lisa knew she had failed – she felt like a complete fucking failure as a parent, her and Tim had practically chased their oldest son off and now it was happening with their youngest. The part Lisa hated admitting to herself the most, was that she almost wanted Gerard gone. Not because she didn't love him – but because she did. Lisa knew Gerard would be better with separation from them.

His mental health was suffering because of this environment, and she had just allowed it all these years. Lisa was unaware of it, but apparently she could be as bad as Tim sometimes. And now Tim – fucking Tim, was physically hurting Gerard, and Lisa couldn't bare to watch that.

She wasn't too thrilled with Frank – other than her own evaluations of him, all she knew about him was that he was Gerard's friend, and she trusted her son when he told her he wasn't a bad influence. And apparently, the guy was considerate enough to offer Gerard a place to go.

That did frighten her, honestly. If he was offering that, that meant he had either pure intentions or the very worst – but she had to trust Gerard to be responsible and mature and take care of himself. Lisa hated that it came to this, she didn't want her son staying with a practical stranger. She wanted him at home, safe – but she knew that was a contradiction now.

Last night was a wake up call, and Lisa found herself caught between a rock and a hard place now – a decision she never wanted to make. She felt an all too familiar stinging in her eyes, a feeling she'd grown accustomed to only knowing behind closed doors.

She failed at protecting both of her babies, and even though the option in front of her was one she wasn't at all happy with, it was one of her last chances to try and do what she prayed was the right thing – and it would keep Gerard safe.

"Don't cry, Mom." Gerard said. What did he say that was wrong? Did he make her cry? He didn't like seeing his mom like this.

"It's okay, honey." She wiped her eyes and blinked the tears away as best she could, "I understand what you're asking." She paused before nodding, "I think that would be the best option."

Gerard could hardly believe it was that easy, and he kinda felt bad.

She sniffled and exhaled, regaining her composure. "I want his phone number." She took her flip phone out of her pocket and gave it to Gerard to program in the number. Gerard did as Lisa wanted while she continued speaking, "I'm not at all happy with this, and I'm sorry this is what it's come to."

A few minutes later, hell's gates broke open, unleashing unfortunate things that should not be into the Way household. Actually, it was just Tim getting home, but what's the difference really?

He glared at Gerard and Lisa, still on the couch, and didn't say hello or anything as he went to the kitchen – it was his turn to cook.

This night just couldn't pass without some kind of episode, no matter how badly Gerard wished it would. Tim was half way done cooking when he called Gerard into the kitchen. He didn't have a choice but to obey, he sat at the table, scooting the chair so it faced towards Tim at the stove. 

Gerard's stomach was already in knots and animosity radiated from Tim.

Tim glanced over at Gerard. He used to look into Tim's eyes and see a loving father looking back. Sometimes he'd see someone in there who just confused him, someone who Gerard let down repeatedly. But now there was something behind his eyes that was unfamiliar, unpredictable, and downright intimidating. He'd always been in there, and he would've surfaced eventually, but what Gerard said last night tipped the iceberg.

And the same feeling from last night had made a come back – from the cruel look in Tim's eyes, Gerard knew he was fucked, and whatever sadistic thing was about to happen wasn't going to be pleasant.

*

The melody of his guitar and familiar movements that had been long-time muscle memory helped Frank to wind down. He closed his eyes and drifted back to memories of high school, specifically his Pencey Prep days. Making music was fun – a part of him missed it, but he liked what he was doing with his life now. Who knows? Maybe he would help out with the soundtrack for a film one day – have the best of both worlds.

That brought him to the thoughts of his next job – the film he was working on now with Brian Molko was wrapping up soon, and he didn't have any plans. Film is a business of relationships. You work with one crew and make friends, and that crew asks you to help out on their individual projects. You meet new people on their sets and make more friends, and they ask you to help on their individual sets again.

Of course that's not the only way to find work in the industry, just a common one, especially for someone trying to make a name for themself in the local area, like Frank.

Best case scenario, he'd get a call from someone in the industry soon looking for a sound guy, but finding work himself would be fine, too. Frank was confident that things would be alright. 

And ironically, Frank did get a phone call after all – but it was from Gerard. He set his guitar down and picked up the phone in a swift movement before he had time to assume anything.

"What's up?" Frank answered.

His heart dropped when he heard Gerard speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love cliffhangers?


	27. Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's day!  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

"Please tell me you're home." Gerard cried – Frank could hardly make out what he said.

"I'm home," Frank's heart started to race, "What's wrong? Why? Are you okay?"

"My dad." Gerard choked out.

Goddamnit. 

"What did he do?" Frank asked, "Are you okay?"

"Driving," Gerard said a little clearer this time, "Be there soon."

Gerard ended the call and let his phone drop to his lap. He was freaking out and hot tears were streaming from his eyes, he kept one hand on the wheel and the other shaking, wiping his eyes, trying to clear his blurred vision as much as he could.

He was well aware of how to get to Frank's by now, it was just getting there without causing a wreck that was a challenge. He tried to focus on driving, watching for other cars and pedestrians and not running any red lights. 

From the moment Tim called him into the kitchen until now was a fast-motion blur, he finally had a chance to think and his mind was a fucking tsunami. One of the clearest thoughts he had was just to leave and go to Frank's – all he had was his keys and his phone and whatever random junk may be in his car, because holy fuck, he didn't know what to do and his world had just ended back there. He didn't understand half of what was going on but he knew it was his fault.

His fault – always his fucking fault.

Gerard kept thinking about what just happened, and what he'd said – he really said those words to his dad. The more he thought about everything, the more upset he got, and he was almost hyperventilating by the time he got to Frank's building. 

He was so panicked for a few reasons, more so some than the other. The worst thing that could have happened, happened.

*

Frank couldn't sit still, he gave in and resorted to pacing. Gerard should have been here by now. Where was he? What had happened? What the fuck did that bastard do to him?

There was a knock at the door, and Frank dashed over to open it immediately.

A sobbing, trembling Gerard stood on the other side, and the first thing Frank noticed before Gerard threw his arms around him was the mark on his face. Frank shut the door and held Gerard, whispering "Shh." repeatedly and rubbing his back while he cried into Frank's shoulder.

Frank had spent the past fifteen minutes in a state of worry. Now, holding Gerard and feeling him shake, hearing him cry, feeling the wetness on his shoulder, made the reality come crashing down around him that this was bad and really happening right now. He couldn't let Gerard go back, he had to protect him, he had to make sure he was safe.

Frank held him for a few more moments, and he couldn't stand it anymore – he began to pull away to see Gerard's face. 

"Look at me, baby." Frank said gently, lifting his chin.

Gerard brought a hand up to his cheek to cover the mark before Frank could examine it. Gerard instinctively felt the need to hide, but he was with Frank now, he wouldn't hurt him, he wouldn't be judgmental.

Frank reached up and held Gerard's hand, and moved it down away from his face. He saw a red blotch in the shape of a hand print, the skin was slightly raised and it looked like it might be lightly bruising.

At first, Frank felt shock, then sorrow, and then anger. Tim had gone too far – he' gone too far long ago but this was the straw that broke the camel's back. How could someone, Gerard's own father of all people, have done this to him? Frank couldn't deny it, the evidence was right in front of him. His heart was breaking for Gerard, imagine how he felt – god, he must be hurting inside. The person who was supposed to love him and protect him betrayed him and hit him – he fucking hit him.

"Oh, my god." Frank muttered.

He rested his fingertips softly on Gerard's jawline, keeping him from tilting his head down. Gerard hadn't looked him in the eye until now, and Frank's heart broke upon seeing the pain in his eyes.

Tears brimmed his eyes and stained his cheeks, Gerard looked so innocent and crushed, like his world had just come spiraling down. The world wasn't fucking fair, Gerard didn't deserve to feel this kind of pain, nobody did. Not someone this sweet and pure in Frank's eyes, and all Frank wanted to do was make it stop.

Frank kissed his forehead, and led him to the couch, holding him again and rocking him gently. Fuck, Frank didn't know how to calm him down, he'd never been in a situation close to this.

Gerard knew Frank was doing all he could, but he couldn't make his heart slow down for him, Gerard had to do that for himself. He had to make himself calm down, believe he was safe now – he was. Tim wasn't here, Frank's apartment was safe. Frank was going to keep him safe, but there was one thing Frank couldn't do – and that made another wave of heartache wash over him.

His grip tightened around Frank briefly, and he held back another sob – he needed to tell Frank what happened. With his face pressed into Frank's chest, his words came out too muffled for Frank to understand.

"What was that?" Frank asked softly.

Gerard lifted his head and rested it against Frank's collarbone. He inhaled and exhaled deeply before speaking again. "They're not letting me dance."

Although Frank never wanted to invalidate Gerard's feelings, a part of him didn't think his parents would actually do that and that it was something Gerard only worried about – but apparently he was wrong, and he had no words, so he didn't bother with trying to find any.

They sat there like that, neither of them speaking, and they lost track of time. Frank didn't want this to be real, and Gerard especially didn't either, and he didn't know how to cope. Sometime while sitting there, he just went numb. His parents had just successfully ended something he loved more than himself and the very reason he was alive, and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't change it.

Frank's cellphone began to ring – he reached for it on the coffee table with one hand, the other still around Gerard. He saw that an hour had passed. He didn't recognize the number, so it wasn't worth answering.

"That's my mom." Gerard said, coming out of his haze.

"What?" Frank asked.

Gerard could see the phone screen, he recognized that as his mom's cellphone number.

"My mom wanted your number." Gerard said, "Just answer it, please."

And he did without further question – he put it on speaker so Gerard could hear, as well.

"Hello?" Frank answered uncertainly.

"Frank Iero?" A familiar voice – Lisa's voice said. Her voice didn't have the same coldness to it as he remembered. She sounded agitated, and spoke quietly.

"Yes?" He said.

"This is Lisa Way, Gerard's mother." She said in the same tone, "Is he at your apartment?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's right beside me." Frank replied, he still felt unsure and like he was walking on egg shells.

"Okay." Lisa said, she was keeping up a certain tone, a business-like tone that really just came natural to her, so no one could break down the walls she always had up with the aid of that tone. "Are you aware of what's happened?"

She heard a brief silence on the other end of the phone. She glanced behind her, making sure Tim wasn't there. Lisa sat outside on the steps of the stoop – after Gerard left, she did her best to calm Tim down as much as she could. After he cooled off enough, she said she needed to make a call, that one of her collegues needed to speak to her about something – and she was going outside to get some air.

Had it been anyone else, Tim probably wouldn't have believed them.

"I think so." Frank replied, he felt a twinge of anger, like how he felt when he first saw the bruises on Gerard's arm yesterday. "Gerard said you've taken him out of dance, and it's pretty hard to overlook that handprint." 

At that, Gerard pulled away from Frank – he just needed space and to not be reminded of that. Frank looked over, hoping he hadn't done anything wrong to make Gerard pull away. Frank's facial expression must have been pretty obvious, Gerard shook his head 'no.'

Lisa could hear the aggravation in Frank's voice, she didn't feel like starting an argument, but she understood how he could be upset, and she figured Frank saw her as the bad guy – which, he did, and Lisa couldn't blame him. She saw herself as the bad guy, too.

"Yes, I know." Lisa replied, "Is that all he told you?" 

"Yeah, why?" Frank said, eyeing Gerard.

"Can he hear me?" Lisa asked.

Frank thought about it for a second, "No." He lied.

"Okay." She began, and then she proceeded to give out details from her perspective.

Lisa explained that she felt terrible and sorry, she told him how after Tim called him into the kitchen and broke the news to Gerard that he would no longer be dancing and would be going to public school – although Lisa was going to work on changing that last part – he started to cry. Apparently, Tim didn't like that, it seemed to provoke him into going on a rant.

He went on about how big of a disappointment Gerard was – telling him things no parent should tell their kids and striking subjects he had zero fucking business speaking about. He told Gerard he was going nowhere in life, he needed to straighten up and get his act together. He wasn't talented enough to dance professionally, he wasn't smart enough, and he sure as hell wasn't pretty enough, or thin enough to look good up there.

When he started public school, he wouldn't make any friends, no one would want to be friends with an egotistical and disrespectful fag who couldn't do anything right – that he'd made himself unlovable, that it was all Tim could do to keep loving him anymore and it wore him out, but he loved Gerard regardless, and Tim felt like the victim. Gerard made him the monster he was, it was all Gerard's fault, he made Tim have to do this to him – it was only fair.

Gerard was torn, part of him actually believed some of what Tim said. He really was ugly and unlovable and fucked everything up, maybe it was his fault that Tim was so horrible after all. The other part wanted to believe it was all lies, and he wasn't going to just sit back and take the verbal abuse being thrown at him.

So, Lisa explained to Frank that that was when it got really bad – when Gerard spoke up. He said three words that couldn't have been chosen more unwisely.

He told Tim he hated him.

*

Lisa asked to speak to Gerard, she apologized to him and asked how he was doing – the three of them came to the conclusion that Gerard would stay over night, go to his audition tomorrow – which, Lisa had completely forgotten about, and then they would play the rest of the day by ear, and hope Tim was better.

On the chance he wasn't, Lisa was going to go ahead and get some things together, like a change of clothes, a tooth brush, tooth paste, etcetera, in case Gerard needed to spend another night at Frank's and he wouldn't have to worry about packing and forgetting anything – it was honestly the least she could do at this point.

After they hung up, it was approaching ten – Frank was beginning to get tired but Gerard was restless. Frank offered to talk about what happened, that it would be good for Gerard to get it out, and so he did. Gerard had calmed down during the phone call, but he was getting worked up again talking to Frank. Not so much sadness this time, he was definitely still heartbroken, but he was also just pissed, and their theraputic talking turned into a tirade for Gerard – after he was done, Frank felt like he knew everything there was to know about his and Tim's relationship and history, and he had no idea that such an innocent little pixie of Gerard's nature could voice such belligerent obsecenities or have so much pent up rage.

Frank was still angry with Gerard's parents, and tired, but after that, he was sort of stupefied and shamefully a little turned on.

Gerard noticed.

But neither of them said anything and Gerard wasn't in the mood, and honestly, neither was Frank – it was just kinda something he couldn't control. Anyway, Gerard never had dinner, so Frank fixed them both a snack. For Gerard, it was like deja vu of last night with his mom. With any luck, Gerard would never get used to nights like this.

Gerard tried not to think about the reality of no more dance lessons – Frank reassured him to not give up hope, and he reminded him that he had an audition tomorrow, and that there would still be opportunities even if he wasn't constantly taking classes. 

Who knows, maybe Frank had a point – Gerard didn't want to think about it anymore, it would still be there for him to think about tomorrow and tonight, he was with Frank. That's what he kept telling himself.

Unfortunately, no matter how successful he may have been at times with suppressing the thoughts – they still came back all at once at random times, and it was all he could do not to start crying again. He told himself, just smile even if he was sad.

*

Lisa got started on packing for Gerard once Tim went to bed. She hadn't been in his room in quite awhile, it looked the same – just messier. She started with clothes, and moved to the bathroom to get his tooth brush in the medicine cabinet – where he kept spares. 

She opened the cabinet and her gaze landed on something that was completely TMI, she could not – and did not want to believe her eyes – were those... condoms?!

Lisa nearly died on the spot.

*

Frank decided to be a gentleman and volunteered to take the couch, but Gerard wouldn't have it.

"No way – I'll sleep on the couch if you want, though, but I am so not kicking you out of your own bed." Gerard said.

"It's fine," Frank said, putting the dishes in the sink, "Really."

Gerard leaned on the counter behind him, "Why don't we compromise?"

Frank turned to face him and smirked, "You want us to both sleep on the couch?"

Mission accomplished – Gerard finally smiled. That joke was godawful and Frank knew it, but it made Gerard smile, no matter how faint it might've been.

"Come on." Frank said, giving Gerard a peck on the lips, leading him to the bedroom.

Frank changed into pajamas in the bathroom, Gerard merely had to kick off his shoes and he was already ready for bed – having not bothered to bring literally anything with him, not that he could really be blamed, at all. That sent his mind into a domino effect again, and here came the thoughts that his life may indeed no longer have a purpose and his own dad seemingly hated his guts and... 'Don't cry.' He reminded himself, 'Stop thinking about it.'

Gerard waited before actually getting comfortable until Frank returned, turned out the light, and got into bed with him. Their eyes adjusted easily – there was still light coming in from the bathroom.

So, how was this going to work? Were they just going to respectively stay on opposite sides of the bed and pretend they weren't romantically into each other, or – shit, Gerard was actually in Frank's bed right now. Circumstances could have totally been better, and it was absolutely not the time, but Gerard was a hormonal teenager in bed with his boyfriend, he couldn't help that he was thinking about stuff.

Thankfully, Frank seemed to be confident and sort of took the lead. He laid on his side, facing Gerard, and ushered for him to get closer. Gerard complied, and wrapped his arms around Frank and rested his head in the crook of his neck. Frank held him close, nuzzling the top of his head and placing a kiss there.

It seemed to Frank that Gerard was doing a lot better – probably just suppressing everything, but at least he wasn't freaking out anymore. They could deal with the aftermath later, together. Frank didn't want to leave his side, he wanted to help him in anyway he could, and he would be there when Gerard needed him to finish grieving so he wouldn't be alone – so it wouldn't turn into something unhealthy. All Frank wanted was for Gerard to be okay. 

And he wanted him to be comfortable, too. Like now, he hoped he wasn't like, crushing him or something or that he wasn't too hot or too cold or anything.

"You warm enough?" Frank asked gently.

"Mmhmm." Gerard hummed, Frank could feel his breath on him.

"Comfortable enough in jeans?" Frank asked with absolutely no forethought or consideration as to how that would sound to Gerard.

He raised his head and looked at Frank. 

Gerard knew he didn't mean anything by that – but there was enough sadness tonight, it would be fun to mess with Frank, just a little.

"Are you suggesting I take them off?" He asked, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Frank's eyes widened, and they both broke into laughter. Gerard laid his head back where it was once the laughter subsided. On second thought, what if he just misread the situation entirely and Frank really was suggesting something? Probably not – most likely not. But there was the tiniest possibility, right?

"No but seriously," Gerard said, "Are you?"

"Well – I wasn't," Frank said, "But I mean, if that's what you want, y'know..." Frank didn't finish his sentence due to the steady stream of 'holy shit are we about to have sex with eachother for the first time' thoughts going through his mind.

Gerard raised up again and looked at him, and judging by how he leaned forward and kissed Frank, they might be about to have sex with each other for the first time.


	28. Kissing Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

Maybe it was the wrong decision – no doubt poorly timed, no matter if it was indeed wrong or right or anything in between. And it was – the wrong decision, but Gerard was getting aroused at the thought of having sex with Frank, and here he was in bed with him in an intimate, tender setting, kissing him, and Frank was kissing back, although a little hesitant.

Gerard was ready to go for it, he hoped Frank was, too. They'd been dating a few weeks, they loved each other, they were alone, and for Gerard, it felt like they should do it now. He wanted to, he'd wanted to for awhile – plus it would take his mind off tonight's earlier events, and the orgasm would help him relax a little. 

Then he started thinking, again, about how Tim slapped him and berated him – and he pushed those thoughts back once again, because he was here with Frank now, and they were probably about to fuck.

Of course he'd had sex before, but he'd never been quite so nervous since the time he lost his virginity. 

Gerard kissed Frank's cheek, and then his jawline – Frank let him, Gerard was leading now and that was okay, Frank was just going to let him do what he wanted – he was unsure about this, and of course he wanted have sex, but maybe in a more ideal situation. He was concerned for Gerard, mainly. Earlier he was crying his eyes out and now he was dropping hints so obvious they probably couldn't even qualify as hints, that he wanted to have sex. Something didn't feel right about it, so that's why Frank just let Gerard kiss him, he didn't move his arms from their position around him, but he didn't try anything himself.

Gerard moved his hand down – it was hardly noticeable that it was shaking, from being nervous. Frank looked down and watched Gerard slide his hand under the covers. His fingertips glided over his lower stomach, to the button of his jeans. Frank heard Gerard's zipper open – he was serious about this. Frank didn't want to be a rag doll or seem like he wasn't into it, but he was still just so apprehensive.

"Gerard." Frank said softly.

Gerard stopped kissing his jawline and looked him in the eyes.

The mark on his cheek appeared to be barely there, it was hard to tell with the light, and his eyes were still puffy from earlier. Gerard looked at him like he was worried he may have done something wrong.

"Are you sure?" Frank asked.

Gerard nodded.

Frank kissed him then, gently – he still wasn't going to rush things or pressure Gerard into moving too quickly. What if he wanted to stop? Frank didn't want him to feel like he couldn't.

Gerard kissed back, Frank felt his tongue – and Frank kept up, but he didn't advance anything. Gerard stopped kissing and sat up, kicked the covers off of him, and slid his pants down from his thighs and off of his ankles, and let his pants and socks too, drop off onto the floor, while Frank propped himself up with his arm.

Never had Gerard been one to love his thighs – but he turned back to Frank and paused so he could look at him. Why not, y'know? Confident or not, Gerard wanted Frank to see him. And Frank did just that – god, he was beautiful and his thighs were perfect. Gerard was actually pretty small, not as in 'skinny', just generally petite. That was something Frank noticed upon first meeting him – but his thighs looked a little bigger with no fabric covering them.

His gaze moved up, and Frank saw that he was getting hard. Gerard took his shirt off and tossed it down with his pants, leaving him with just his boxers, meanwhile Frank was still fully clothed. What if Frank didn't like his body and that's why he didn't seem into it? Gerard couldn't stop his thoughts from going back to earlier, when Tim told him he wasn't pretty enough – fuck, he told himself no, Frank didn't think that, he wouldn't. 

At just the right time, Frank said, "You're gorgeous."

So, Frank did find him attractive. That was reassuring.

Gerard wanted Frank to start shedding some clothes before he was completely naked – he shifted closer to Frank and kissed him again, using his tongue. Frank wasn't making any notions to taking anything off, Gerard didn't know why. He straddled Frank, causing him to lay flat on his back and they continued to make out. Gerard grinded on him subtly, getting himself fully hard.

Here Gerard was, almost naked on top of his boyfriend who didn't seem interested – he was opening himself up emotionally and almost physically, if Frank would just give a fucking sign he wanted to do this, which, he wasn't giving. Gerard remembered what Tim said about being unlovable – oh god, fuck, he didn't want to question Frank's love for him but what if? Just what if?

The rest of the argument came crashing back into Gerard's mind like a tidal wave, he was tired and emotionally out on display and vulnerable and he just couldn't suppress it anymore.

Gerard stopped kissing him, and hid his face in Frank's neck and started to cry again.

He just cried, it was all he could do. That's what Frank was worried about – he held Gerard, his bare skin felt hot to Frank's arms. Frank kept his voice calm and soothing, and repeatedly told Gerard that it was okay, he loved him – so much, he was alright, he was safe, it was all going to be okay.

"I hate myself." Gerard cried, his voice breaking, "God, I fucking hate myself."

*

Frank never knew Gerard could be so fragile, and just holding him and whispering things didn't seem to be working. He managed to get out from underneath Gerard so they were both laying on their sides, Gerard covered his face with one hand and wrapped his other arm around himself as Frank sat all the way up. Seeing Gerard like that, so vulnerable, so small and crying, made Frank feel some kind of emotion he'd never felt at such magnitude before – his heart was ripped in two. It was a bad mix of sympathy, compassion, guilt, pain, complete devastation, and it fucking physically hurt.

Frank reached for Gerard and tugged him up, Gerard went willingly and sat up himself. He folded his arms across his chest and abdomen like he was trying to hide.

It was embarrassing for Gerard – there were all those raw emotions from earlier, now he could add how ashamed he felt for freaking out before they had sex and Frank had to see him like this, a crying, shirtless, now semi-hard mess. Their relationship was probably over – who would want to stay with someone like that?

The only other tactic Frank could come up with to get Gerard to calm down was this – he kept one hand around Gerard, stroking his back, and the other hand cradling his face, keeping him looking in Frank's eyes.

"Gerard, baby – please," Frank began, "I promise you everything will be okay. I love you so fucking much, Tim's not going to get you, I will never let anyone hurt you. You're safe, you are safe." 

Gerard nodded, and Frank continued, "Your life isn't over – it's not. I know it feels like the end of the world but it isn't, you've gotta understand that, sweetheart. I'm right here, I'm not gonna let anything bad happen." 

He was trying to calm down, he tried to believe Frank, god he was acting like a fucking child, it was embarrassing.

"I'm – I'm sorry." Gerard said.

"No, no, don't be sorry, why are you sorry?" Frank asked, thankful Gerard had finally started communicating with him.

"I'm acting like – like a fucking," An involuntary double breath cut him off.

"That's okay, you're okay," Frank said, "Tell me what's wrong."

"I hate myself." Gerard found the words.

"Why?" Frank began stroking his hair.

Gerard had never been asked that before and quite honestly, it caught him completely off guard and he had to think for a second.

"I'm ugly," He began, "Everything is my fault, tonight was my fault--"

"Shh," Frank cooed, "You're not ugly, I don't care what that asshole told you, he's wrong and none of this is your fault. It's not your fault, Gerard. Tim is an abuser, and you know that. People like him are like a fucking mental illness – he gets in your head and he lies to you, none of this is your fault, baby. You can't listen to him."

Gerard couldn't see anything but honesty in Frank's eyes. His eyes were huge, his touch was soft and earnest, and Gerard knew he was right. He was. Gerard knew he was the victim and Tim was just saying things to hurt him, nothing more. He was worked up right now and tired and not thinking entirely clearly. He took long, purposeful breaths, and exhaled slowly, not taking his eyes away from Frank's. Frank started to breath in sync with him.

As they breathed, Frank tucked Gerard's hair behind his ears, and wiped the remaining tears away with his thumbs. His face still felt hot – after Gerard's breathing was getting noticeably better and softer, Frank started to get up.

"Come on." He said.

He circled the bed as Gerard sat with his legs hanging off it, Frank picked up his pants and shirt. Gerard stood up, and Frank helped him get dressed. He led him to the bathroom afterward, the sudden bright light causing them to both squint at first. Gerard leaned against the wall, he didn't wanna see his reflection, he knew he must've looked like a complete wreck. He watched Frank as he got a washcloth from the rack of towels, turned the cold water on in the sink and ran the washcloth under it until it was soaked. Frank turned off the water and rung the cloth out, and faced Gerard.

He pressed it against Gerard's forehead, and held it there for a few seconds.

"Feel okay?" Frank asked.

"Yeah." Gerard closed his eyes. It did feel good, he was burning up. He felt Frank move the cloth around, he dabbed it over both of his eyes, and back to his forehead. "I'm really sorry." 

"No reason to be sorry, it's all okay." Frank replied attentively.

"I completely freaked out on you." Gerard replied, keeping his eyes closed, "That was so embarrassing."

"I can't say that I understand," Frank began. "Because it's literally impossible for me to understand exactly how you feel, but I promise you, there's no reason to be sorry or embarrassed, okay?"

"Okay." Gerard repeated. He had to believe him. "Y'know, you didn't have to do any of this. You didn't have to take me in tonight or try to help." He opened his eyes to look at Frank, "So, thank you."

Frank smiled, "Of course." 

He held out his arms to hug Gerard, and Gerard hugged back.

"I love you, Frank." Gerard said.

"I love you, too." Frank replied.

After Gerard had cooled off, they both went back to bed. Gerard was drained and had worn himself out. It was about a quarter til midnight now, Frank had to be on set tomorrow and Gerard had an audition, they'd be lucky if they weren't exhausted then – the smart thing to do was to go to sleep immediately, but they were just two idiots in love. Instead, they both snuggled under the covers facing each other, calmer and cooler, with just enough room between them so that their noses didn't touch. They talked about tomorrow in needlessly hushed tones.

"You excited for tomorrow?" Frank asked.

"Yeah," Gerard smiled faintly, "I'm nervous."

"You are?" Frank asked.

"It's my first audition, ever." Gerard replied.

"I never would have guessed." Frank said, "Can I be honest?"

Gerard nodded.

"I've never seen anyone dance like you can." Frank confessed, "Or pick up choreography so fast. It's like that's what you were meant to do."

He smiled at Frank.

"You'll do amazing tomorrow." He concluded.

"You think?" Gerard said.

"I know." Frank replied, "I also know that your life, your career, is just beginning."

Gerard gave him a quick peck on the lips. It had been one crazy fucking night, and Gerard had all he could stand of it. He snuggled closer to Frank, and that's how he fell asleep – with the feeling of warmth and safety, knowing the person he'd fallen asleep with truly loved him. It wasn't long before Frank joined him in sleep, a deep sleep, the kind where he actually rested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note – if you noticed where it talks about Gerard being petite and you were like 'oh shit it's one of those people who portrays Gerard to be thinner than he is irl' I want to let you know 1. At this point in time in the fic, he looks Danger Days era and he was smaller then and 2. This fic has a big timeline and eventually he will no longer look Danger Days era, therefor, accurately portrayed as chubbier. I don't like it when people try to 'skinnify' (as i've seen it called) Gerard either.


	29. Spell of Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

Like usual, Frank woke up to the sound of his alarm at seven in the morning. A strange, hot weight on his chest prohibited him from raising up to turn it off – he opened his eyes and glanced down, it was Gerard, looking so content using Frank as a pillow. Frank didn't want to disturb him. As carefully as he could, he moved Gerard off of him, and he turned off the alarm. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking back at the sleeping figure – the covers were disheveled around him, Frank could see him breathing softly but he didn't make a noise. He looked peaceful.

And it made Frank feel fortunate to have woken up beside someone he felt so much for.

Gerard was just barely awake – he was vaguely aware of different surroundings and movement, but that was it. He felt a warm touch on his arm, and heard a comforting voice accompanying that touch.

"Gerard?" He heard Frank say, and holy shit his voice was raspy and oh wow, was it amazing.

He was honestly too groggy and still too out of it to even do anything or show any signs that he was like, alive. The most he could muster up was turning his face into the pillow to block out the light, and he accidentally dozed back off from there.

Frank got the hint that Gerard wasn't waking up right now – so Frank stood up to go to the bathroom to start getting ready for the day, and after that, back into the bed room and to his closet to get clothes. Gerard was still out like a light, so Frank just changed clothes where he was, facing the closet.

Across the room from him, Gerard became aware of noise and shuffling around – also, the realization again of a new environment, and the memory was foggy at first, but then it came back all at once. This was Frank's apartment, the moving around was Frank, Gerard came here last night because... yeah. Not the most pleasant way to start the day. But he did have an audition later, so there was that to think about and look forward to, and he needed to be ready for it mentally as well as physically. So, it was probably in Gerard's best interest to go ahead and get up, so that he could be awake and warmed up and ready to go when it was time, despite being so damn tired.

He sat up, and rubbed his eyes. They felt swollen, his vision was blurry when he opened his eyes, but it cleared after a few hard blinks. He glanced over at the closet where Frank was, and was met with the sight of flesh, and pumpkins, and guns, oh my. It seemed Frank was right when he told Gerard he'd see all of his tattoos one day.

Frank must have heard the covers rustling or something, he was only shirtless now, and glanced over his shoulder to see a sleepy looking Gerard with some of the messiest bed hair he'd ever seen looking back at him. 

"Morning." Frank smiled.

"Good morning." Gerard replied, "Your tattoos look cool."

"Oh, thanks." Frank turned to face Gerard, and to his surprise, he saw even more tattoos. "I haven't showed you these yet, have I?" He motioned towards his torso and Gerard shook his head. 

He scooted towards Frank as he sat on the edge of the bed.

He started with the birds, explaining them quickly, then the hope flame, and turned around so Gerard could see the guns and the pumpkin. Frank got chills when he felt Gerard's fingertips running over the pumpkin. His heart did some weird stuff when he felt slightly chapped lips pressing against his back in the center of the pumpkin. He turned around to face Gerard again to kiss those lips, and it gradually turned into making out.

After last night, Frank wasn't going to make any advances, not just yet. Gerard needed time to heal before that happened.

"What time is it?" Gerard asked, pulling away.

Frank nodded towards the alarm clock, "Just past seven."

Gerard nodded and pressed his forehead to Frank's. 

"What time is your audition?" Frank asked.

"Twelve." Gerard replied.

"I've gotta leave at nine." Frank said, "Why don't you just hang out here until you have to go?"

"Alright," Gerard said, "Thanks."

Frank kissed him again lightly and quickly and got back on his feet.

"So what do you want for breakfast?" He asked.

*

Over breakfast, Frank asked how Gerard was feeling. He said he didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to think about it before his audition. Frank understood, and dropped the subject. They talked about other things, completely unrelated. Gerard wasn't as light hearted and smiley as he was known to have been before, but he wasn't emotionless or crying his eyes out, so that was progress. He was still tired, though. 

He told Frank he wasn't used to getting up before nine usually, that he was just a lazy motherfucker who really enjoyed sleep – to which Frank responded with a cute laugh and that he could only wish he was like that, instead he was just plagued with energy all the time unless he was about to fall asleep right then and there, like last night. Gerard disagreed, how could never being tired or sluggish be a bad thing? And Frank talked about how he never felt rested or calm – except when he was with Gerard. Gerard helped that aspect sometimes.

After breakfast, Frank had an hour left before he had to leave – he went ahead and got his sound equipment rounded up anyway and laid it all on the chair to the left of the couch. 

Because Gerard was still tired, he decided to go back to bed for a little while, and Frank joined him – not sleeping, just laying propped up with his arm around Gerard, talking about insignificant things. And while they did that and Gerard fell closer to a slumber, becoming more and more giggly as time went on, Frank had to pause and take this moment, this hour in, and realize that – aside from Gerard's home life bothering Frank – this was a blessing that Frank didn't deserve. Times like this? That's what happiness was, and he was sure of that.

*

Nine o'clock rolled around, Gerard would probably be getting up in an hour or so, Frank wrote a note and laid it on the pillow beside him, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and left to go to set, leaving Gerard alone and not having to worry – knowing that he was okay. As predicted, Gerard did wake up in an hour or so, a little disheartened at being alone now. 

He saw the paper beside him, unfolded it and read it. 'Went to set, good luck, I love you.' Gerard just couldn't help himself, he smiled, and even giggled – someone really cared about him, and this note was just a small piece of that evidence.

Riding that small high, Gerard got out of bed, and started stretching. He'd stop by his house and change into appropriate dance apparel on the way to the audition. And he did just that – Mrs. Kovlov had previously given him directions to the place, and he navigated himself there and successfully arrived on time, which made him feel like a bonafide fucking adult, and it was great.

Maybe Gerard was trying to grow up too fast, he didn't think so. But, maybe he was – or maybe he just wasn't given that much of a choice. Either way, he may or may not have been on a really dark path, growing up so fast and being so determined to take off from this city. This city would always be special – cause after all, it was New York – but he wanted to have a fulfilling life of travel and not stay in one place forever.

Yeah, professional careers in ballet usually didn't last past forty, but Gerard didn't think about that. He was impulsive and let his happiness and everything, all that he was, depend on ballet. Mikey made him pretty happy too, though. He could usually cheer Gerard up. Now Frank was also in his life, and from the looks of things, to stay – and he made Gerard happy as well, which was a good thing. Honestly, a better thing than Gerard even knew then.

However, despite the 'impulsiveness' that was just ingrained in Gerard and part of who he is, that didn't mean ballet was a mere spur of the moment. No, fourteen years couldn't be chucked up as a phase or anything similar. This was his life, it was the life he chose and the only one he wanted. It was all he knew, and he felt like it was all he was.

Since he was even old enough to know how to plan a future, it had always been the same. Study ballet, dance and train constantly, and make it big. No college had been worked into the plan, no back up plans, no thought as to what he would do after he was too old to dance. Maybe he could have helped it, maybe not. But allowing himself to be so heavily dependent on ballet wasn't good.

Sure, he'd fantasized about what it would be like to be in love with someone and balance them and his life that would be so demanding, but he never took it all that seriously. Now that Frank was here, and again, appeared to be here to stay, at least for awhile – Gerard didn't know how he would be able to have time to spend with Frank, not to mention Frank's demanding career of his own that was only going to get bigger.

Breaking up with him to save themselves from future heart ache that may not even happen wasn't even an option, really. They'd work it out when it happened, and with any luck, it would happen soon – both of their careers would take off, they'd be hugely successful, and still have time to love each other. Gerard worried that he was asking for too much – maybe he was, he couldn't know.

But right now, things were just beginning in their careers and relationship, they had plenty of time for each other and fuck it if Gerard wasn't going to revel in that while he could.

*

Okay – yes, Frank did end up worrying about Gerard after all, cause his boyfriend was auditioning for an actual fucking role in an actual ballet and if he got it, he'd actually be living the life he wanted, and Frank was pumped for him and sending positive vibes out into the universe all day.

Brian Molko was pretty chill about things, and he allowed phones to be on his set, so long as they weren't a distraction. When Frank was just standing and waiting for Brian to give the actors directions or hold for a relight or immediate play back, he'd check his phone to see the time. When twelve o'clock came, Frank knew Gerard was out there somewhere in his element and hopefully absolutely killing it – Frank had total confidence in him.

When they wrapped for the day, Frank wasted no time calling Gerard to ask how it went – he told him he thought it went well, and if he got the part, he'd hear back in a week. It was as simple as that, they talked a little while longer about it – Gerard rattling on about every detail and Frank listened happily. He talked about the process, the other dancers, the people auditioning them, what they asked for, that his back hurt a little, and he was so nervous right before it started, but it went away when he was dancing.

After that conversation came to a close, Frank dodged around the subject of where Gerard would go tonight, and he told him his house, reluctantly.

Words of encouragement could only do so much, but Frank tried anyway. He'd be spending class and the rest of his time at his apartment that night with sweaty palms and his stomach in knots, though Gerard reassured him to not worry unless he called.

As expected, when Frank got to class that night, it felt a little empty without Gerard's presence. All of the other students noticed his absence, as well – but they felt completely differently about it.

On the other hand, Gerard got home to an empty house – like usual. He found the overnight stuff Lisa laid out on his bed, and sat beside them. Gerard didn't want another night where he had to go to Frank's because of Tim. Yeah, he wanted to go to Frank's, absolutely, but not under those circumstances again. And with every passing second that Gerard was painfully aware of, it came closer and closer to determining whether or not he would be back there before the night was over, and just on time, he heard the front door open upstairs. 

When he came up, he found his mom. They had fifteen or so minutes before Tim arrived, and Lisa utilized them. Gerard followed her into the kitchen while she cooked, nosing around in his business, asking for details of last night and if Frank was nice to him – which, he was, and that may be the understatement of the year. 

He blatantly lied to her about a few things – no, they didn't sleep in the same bed, and of course nothing inappropriate happened. After that conversation ended, there was just awkward silence, and the dread of knowing Tim would be home in about five minutes or less.

"Mom," Gerard broke the silence, "What if he never gets changes?"

Gerard didn't have to elaborate on who 'he' was, Lisa knew he meant Tim. She'd thought about that very question before, and she had a few solutions. 

"Well," Lisa began, she took a seat beside Gerard at the table so there would be no distractions while she spoke. "I don't like any of these answers. You may have to live with Mikey if things don't improve."

Gerard's heart skipped a beat – no matter how much he loved Mikey, he wasn't a big fan of that option, because he would never see Frank, and he would be further away from opportunities for his career, and he'd never see Frank – oh, and not to mention, he'd never fucking see Frank.

"Or, if this goes on and gets worse," Her voice became low, "I will file for divorce."

And his heart skipped another beat and he didn't even know what to say to either of those, cause abusive or not, how could his parents ever get a divorce? They were his parents. They'd always been in his life together as a couple, and it was startling hearing his mom say those words and knowing she meant them with every ounce of her being.

Lisa noticed the concern in his eyes.

"But he's been having a rough few weeks at work, he's just on edge." Lisa said, "So I doubt that will have to happen."

Gerard nodded. 

"I hope you don't have to leave again tonight, honey. I'm so sorry that happened." Lisa went on, "I laid some overnight things on your bed, I don't know if you saw."

"I saw." He replied.

"And Gerard?" Lisa said.

"Yeah?" 

Her whole aura became grim and stern. "I know about the condoms."

Gerard's eyes flew wide.

"Don't think you're just getting away with a slap on the wrist, honey." She warned, "We'll be talking again later."

With any luck, she would forget – and just as quickly as that conversation became awkward, it took another turn.

"I'm glad for Frank." Lisa stood up and changed the subject, "I need to thank him again for giving you a place to stay."

Gerard only nodded again, still a little bewildered. "Yeah – yeah, I'm glad for him, too."

Lisa smiled at him, "You like him?"

Shit. Oh shit. She fucking knew. Gerard might as well be euthanized right now. Shit.

"What?" Gerard tried to act like he had no idea what she meant.

"He's your friend, isn't he?" Lisa said, "So don't you like him?"

"Oh." He said, "Yeah, of course."

She flashed one last smile and went back to cooking. 

Unfortunately, Tim arrived soon after that, and Gerard was in for a huge shock.

*

There were no calls from Gerard so far, Frank kept a close eye on his phone, and now he was almost back to his apartment. He was thinking about Mrs. Kovlov – Frank had felt like she was acting a little off lately, and apparently, he wasn't the only one who saw it. Tonight she had a little spell of confusion, and Frank pulled her aside and asked her to go to the doctor to make sure she was okay. But of course not – she insisted she was fine.

Frank wanted to believe her, but she was practically his mom. He really did love her and would never be able to thank her enough for being there when his aunt died – the last thing Frank wanted was to see Mrs. Kovlov get sick now, and honestly, after evaluating her behavior, he worried it might be early stages or signs of Alzheimer's disease. She was sixty and seemed confused at times – it made sense to him to believe that.

Maybe he'd talk to Ray about it – Ray seemed to be the knower of all at times and could no doubt ease Frank's mind. He could talk to Gerard about it too, but he also wanted to play it safe and not upset him by talking about the studio.

He debated on whether or not to call Gerard now, or call him when he got to his apartment, or to call sometime much later – or to call at all. Frank settled on a happy medium, and texted him when he got to his apartment, making sure he was alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excited for the next chapter - I feel like since it's chapter 30 it should be big in the sense of having important events and being long.


	30. Smitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

The ambience was pretty intense, and the house fell dead silent at first. Tim's disgusting fucking scare tactics were still working on Gerard – who was too afraid of what might happen if he moved, or said something, or even fucking looked at Tim the wrong way. That last little glimmer Gerard had of feeling like he didn't deserve this and he should stand up for himself was still there, he was just too scared to do anything because he didn't wanna fucking get hit or kicked out or ruin his life even further, if that was at all possible.

Lisa watched them both with a sharp eye – taking into account how still Gerard had become when Tim sauntered through the door like he owned the place, which, he half did, but the point is that he had some fucking god complex going on and it was sickening. She was ready for whatever bullshit he was about to pull.

"Hi, dear." He said, shrugging off his coat in the foyer, seemingly back to his usual self.

"Hi, honey." She replied, playing along with the normalcy.

Tim walked into the living room and sat down, and sighed. Gerard and Lisa exchanged 'what the hell is going on' glances.

"Gerard?" Tim called, "Come here, please."

Gerard's heart sped up, and he looked at Lisa one last time before joining his dad in the living room. Tim didn't give him an opportunity to sit before he stood up and took a few steps forward so he was face to face with his son.

"I want you to know that I love you." Tim said, making Gerard absolutely cringe inside. "Even if you do make it difficult. I believe you owe me an apology."

"I'm sorry." Gerard replied.

"That's right." Tim said, "I know you are. Are you going to start acting right, now? Or am I going to have to take away more? I'm not going to make you go to public school, Gerard. Your mother thinks that would be a bad idea – I disagree, so if this behavior continues, I'll put you in public school so fast your head will spin. You will start acting right, understood?"

Gerard was beginning to feel a little sick, but he nodded anyway.

"I said, is that understood?" Tim repeated, more stern this time.

"Understood." Gerard said quietly. He felt so controlled, it made him want to punch a wall – or Tim's face. Yeah, definitely Tim's face.

"Good." Tim said, "Now come here." He held out his arms, and so miserably and slowly snaked his arms around Gerard and hugged him – pressing Gerard's head to his shoulder and rubbing a hand up and down his back – Gerard felt stiff and uncomfortable while his dad tried to pathetically express love. This wasn't even love – this was tactic of abuse, and Gerard wasn't falling for his 'nice' act.

"I love you." Tim said, and Gerard knew he only said it so Gerard would say it back. And he didn't have much of a choice, Tim would do something if he didn't.

"Love you, too." Gerard told a stone cold lie.

That hug couldn't possibly have been more awkward or unloving that it was – and finally, Tim released him.

The rest of the night kept the same vibe – with Gerard too afraid to do much of anything, Lisa playing along, and Tim seemingly back to normal, although occasionally, he sneezed. That was weird. Hopefully he wasn't coming down with something.

Gerard didn't try to speak up when Tim made snide comments, he didn't even look up from his plate during dinner for the most part. As soon as he could, he hid away in his room and didn't come back out.

Gerard answered Frank's message, told him what was going on and that it looked like he was staying at his house tonight. It was good and bad, but mostly bad.

Saturday came and went without incident, if you could consider the typical back handed comments, general wet-blanketness and constant reprimand to be nonchalant. Something was off about this coolheaded Tim. He appeared to be normal, but there was just something so unnervingly tense about his gaze and his manor, like there was another level of something hidden under his words and like he was going to blow up any moment – and it was Gerard who was going to pull the pin to that grenade if he didn't keep walking a fine line.

Gerard stayed in almost constant contact with Mikey and Frank on Saturday. During the conversations with Mikey, Gerard told him every detail, like usual. Mikey said he thought it best if Tim and Lisa did divorce, it would be better for everyone, and Gerard came around and agreed. He felt bad for wishing his parents would divorce, but Mikey was right, everyone would be happier – Mikey would be around more often, Lisa wouldn't feel pressured and maybe she'd let go of the rest of her mentally abusive behavior. Gerard would feel like he could breathe again, he'd be safe again, and perhaps even be able to go back to class.

Mikey mentioned that he bought a ring, and was now only waiting for a good time to propose to Kristen. He asked Gerard to not tell their parents yet. Their parents had a long lasting effect on Mikey's mind – he still found himself feeling like he had to be secretive, he still found himself worrying that he'd never escape Tim and that he'd always be there looming over his shoulder and ruining everything. 

It would be ideal for Mikey to somehow have the wedding without Tim and Lisa's knowledge, but that wasn't really logical. That was going to be a day that he didn't want completely fucked over, but if Tim and Lisa were there, that just couldn't happen.

Before he sealed himself in his room for the night, Lisa told Gerard she wanted to get to church early tomorrow. The reason? A youth group meeting. To Gerard's horror, Lisa thought it would be good for him to be more involved in church and to be around kids his age, which would actually mean kids age twelve to eighteen, and not necessarily Gerard's age at all, and that was just fucking super.

After Gerard got out of the shower that night, he stood in front of the mirror on his closet door scrutinizing his body with Tim's words replaying in his mind. And as he squeezed the skin on his stomach, he thought about how he wasn't pretty enough, he'd never be skinny enough, and it bothered him. He pinched the skin on his upper arms, unhappy with the fact that there was enough of it to be pinchable and wanting to be able to just wish it away – but life didn't work like that, and if he wanted it gone, he'd have to make it happen.

He already skipped dinner as often as he could, he knew he couldn't do anything more excessive than that unless he wanted his mom to become more concerned than she already was at times. Perhaps he'd just start working harder? If he was never sitting till longer than the time to sleep, he'd be constantly burning calories, right? It sounded like a plan. A plan to be set in motion tomorrow after church – because now he needed sleep, if he was indeed going to survive church.

*

It was everything Gerard thought it would be and worse – a slew of rowdy, thirteen year old Jesus fanatics. Okay, it was actually only about three of them, but it certainly felt like a multitude. Thankfully, the kids would not be staying for the actual church service.

There were those kids, the teacher, Gerard, that blond guy, and his fedora. He seemed disinterested in everything, like last Sunday, so therefor he was the most appealing person in the room. Gerard took a seat by him. He considered introducing himself to fedora guy, and talked himself out of it. But then again, what could it hurt? Fedora guy may have been as desperate and annoyed as Gerard was, so he decided to go for it while the teacher was settling the kids down.

"Hey." Gerard began, and fedora guy turned his attention toward him. "I'm Gerard."

"I'm Patrick." Fedora guy, Patrick, replied – his voice sounded kind. He smiled, and they shook hands.

Unfortunately, the teacher got the kids calmed down before they had a chance to further the conversation, and the lesson began. 

"Let's start by introducing our new student." The teacher said. "Kids, this is Gerard Way. He'll be joining us from now on, tell him hello."

Being put on the spot like that was never fun, Gerard just kind of nodded 'hi' as the kids muttered unenthusiastic 'hello's.

"Very nice." The teacher smiled – her name was Brit, probably short for Britney. "Today, we're going to talk about temptation and sin. We resist temptation with the word of God, and remember that temptation is not the sin – however, giving into it is. How many of you feel like giving into temptation at times?"

The kids' arms shot straight up immediately, Gerard and Patrick stayed a little more reserved than that and casually lifted a hand.

"That's okay," Brit continued, "Everyone is tempted – even Jesus. How do we avoid giving in?"

There were various answers, the ones Brit pointed out were 'prayer' and 'faith'. Gerard simply could not fucking fathom how talking to a big man in the sky could keep someone from giving into temptation – what even fell into the category of 'temptation' anyway? Drugs? Sex? That last slice of pie? Temptation was a pretty broad thing, and if resisting it was so fucking fundamental yet as difficult as people made it sound, how was an invisible sky-man going to help? Wasn't He the one who made people feel tempted to begin with?

"Some primary examples of temptation are pride of life, lust of the eyes, and lust of the flesh – and-" Gerard raised his hand in the middle of Brit's sentence. "Yes, Gerard?" She looked way too happy about Gerard's interest in this.

"Since giving into temptation is a sin and all and God's gonna damn us to hell if we do that – then please humor me as to why He made sin a thing? That's kind of two-faced of Him." Gerard asked. 

Patrick chuckled – maybe this Gerard guy wasn't so bad.

"Oh, oh my." Was all Brit could muster up, and the kiddies were stunned into silence. "Well, um – Satan is the one who makes people sin, Gerard. God didn't allow sin until Satan tempted Eve with the apple." She replied.

Unfortunately for Brit, Gerard kept causing interruptions like that throughout the hour, and she was relieved, to say the least, when class was dismissed. Patrick thought his comments were pretty funny, and Gerard seemed like a nice guy. He caught up to Gerard in the hall – he was eager to get out of the class room and Patrick absolutely could not blame him.

"Hey." Patrick said. 

"Hi." Gerard smiled, they paused in the hall way.

"So, that was pretty funny – those things you said. It's good to know I'm not the only one around here with common sense anymore." Patrick said.

"Anymore?" Gerard asked – he was pretty sure he'd notice if Patrick was around for those first few weeks. "I don't recall seeing you before last week."

"I was in Chicago." Patrick said, "Went to visit my boyfriend."

Holy shit. Boyfriend? He seriously said boyfriend? 

And apparently Gerard's thoughts were written on his face. Patrick laughed, "I guess you weren't expecting to hear that last part, huh."

"Um, no, not really." Gerard smiled.

"You probably want me to go away now, don't you?" Patrick squinted.

"No, no," Gerard said, "I didn't mean it like that – I just wasn't expecting to find someone here who's also gay."

And at that, Patrick smiled.

As it turned out, Patrick was pretty cool. He was sixteen, he had a nice taste in music, played guitar, and the primary reason his parents made him go to church was because he was actually an athiest, and Gerard was fairly certain he mentioned that his boyfriend's name was Pete, but he didn't really remember. 

If Patrick was going to be around at church every Sunday, it might not be as bad as it had been before.

*

Once Gerard got home, he retreated to his room to stretch immediately, turning on the stereo for some back ground noise and motivational music. He pushed himself to go farther and farther until it hurt. He ended up doing that for about an hour, and decided to take a break – but only a small one. He walked over to turn off the stereo on his desk, and just barely bent his back, but that was enough to send a twinge of pain throughout the lower part of it.

By now, Gerard had put two and two together and realized it only hurt if he pushed himself, so he was expecting it this time. He figured his body would get used to it eventually, and his back would stop hurting. Until then, Frank could just work his magic and pop it when it hurt. 

That made Gerard start thinking about Frank, as he collapsed down on his bed – and when he'd see him again. Tomorrow, if he wasn't busy, they could go do something. Gerard would actually be able to drive, for once. 

Then his thoughts became more vague, they were just generally about every aspect of Frank. He was also so chill, so kind, and caring. And loving, especially loving. He made Gerard feel so good inside all the time, and Gerard found himself smiling at the thoughts of him.

Gerard regretted that he'd fucked up a few nights ago – they were so close to finally having sex and he just lost it. He was going to take the next opportunity they had and seize it, and not mess up this time. 

Gerard's love for Frank was intense, maybe a little too intense, and the feeling was mutual. Their bond was already deep, and Gerard felt a little silly for admitting it – being one who always laughed at people, specifically young people like himself, who started dating someone and called them 'the love of their life' right off the bat. But Gerard really felt like he was in love with Frank. They'd been dating for like, what, three weeks? And they'd already labeled themselves as serious. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, and it could very well end terribly, but they didn't think it would.

Being so young, they were both bound to change – technically, Gerard was still growing up, and neither of them were even twenty-one yet. That kind of thing happened all the time to couples – changing and drifting a part from each other, hating who the other became. A lot of things could go wrong with having fallen in love so fast – and neither of them really wanted to take a step back and take it slow. They needed each other and they need each other now, and maybe that was a bad thing to feel this early on.

Gerard had heard stories all his life about relationships and how the romance just died after the first few months, or year, or whatever – because the couple didn't take it slow. Gerard couldn't really see that happening, not with Frank. Frank was perhaps the most wonderful person Gerard had met, and despite not even knowing him all that long, it felt like he had known him forever – like he was someone Gerard was supposed to have known all this time, and Gerard didn't know how his life wasn't a black hole of sorts before he met Frank.

Nope, they just couldn't believe, and didn't want to believe, that they might be setting themselves up for a rough and painful future because they fell in love so deep and so fast. But a relationship like this was hard to come by, so why not let the good thing just be good?

Gerard couldn't see himself stop loving Frank – maybe ever, and he hoped Frank felt the same. Which, he did.

*

On Monday, Brian Molko's film wrapped – leaving Frank without a spare minute all day. It was a bitter sweet day for the whole team. It was kind of sad that that small chapter of his life was closing, and the cast and crew that he'd grown to love was disbanding and going off to find more jobs. He'd see them at the premiere, though – for one last reunion. Until then, he had to look for another gig – and his life would feel emptier without having a set to go to nearly every day. 

Frank took comfort in knowing he still had a class to teach, and Gerard to love. They made plans to go out tomorrow, Tuesday. Gerard wasn't sure if he was grounded or not anymore, it was never made clear to him, and he wasn't going to ask just in case the answer was 'yes'. Since he didn't know for sure, he could just tell them that if he were to get caught. Totally foolproof.

Gerard was up and out the door, bright and early on Tuesday, looking forward to being with Frank all day. Literally, all day for once, from eight until five. Nothing was going to get in the way or mess up their day together.

Best of all, Gerard was able to drive – and since he was taking his own car, he could easily transport some things from his house to Frank's apartment, just a few things like some paper and pens and pencils, a few t-shirts and pants, nothing big.

He picked Frank up and they started the day by going out to get breakfast at a diner, sitting in the same side of the booth. It seemed to Frank that Gerard was turning a deaf ear to his troubles, or he'd just cried everything out, because he was in a better mood than usual lately.

"So when's the premiere?" Gerard asked lightly.

Frank shrugged, "June, sometime in June. I'm so excited cause Ray's gonna be editing it."

"Yeah?" He smiled.

"Yeah. He's like, my favorite editor, in case that wasn't obvious." Frank said.

"It's pretty obvious." Gerard said, "I'm happy for you, Frank." He laid his head on Frank's shoulder.

"So how's your life going?" Frank asked, "Honestly."

Gerard shrugged, "Shitty."

"I'm sorry." Frank replied instinctively, "Is there anything I can do to make it less shitty?"

He looked up. "Well, if you could punch my dad's lights out, get me back in class, help me drop like twenty pounds, and make sure I got the part, then yes, you totally can." Gerard said.

Frank didn't know how to reply, he just kind of looked helpless.

"But," Gerard continued in a softer tone, "On the off chance you can't, then just being here is more than enough."

Frank smiled, and leaned in to kiss him. 

"You're perfect." Frank said in between kisses, as a response to what Gerard said about losing twenty pounds.

And then they heard an unfamiliar voice, "I could totally come back later, y'know." They both looked up to the mysterious voice – to the waitress looking down at them awkwardly, but smiling non the less.

Gerard and Frank glanced from her to each other, and laughed at how fucking cliche that was, not that they'd want it any other way.

After breakfast, they went back to Frank's apartment. He didn't say anything regarding the things Gerard brought, he didn't have to. Gerard offered a simple explanation as he gathered them up. 

"I just figured, y'know, since I might be spending more time here." He said, and Frank was a-okay with that. He didn't even need to explain and Frank would've been fine with it. He helped Gerard carry his things, and they set them on the dresser for the time being.

Frank wanted to keep up his teaching Gerard guitar, it was fun, it always got them in high spirits.

Gerard honestly wasn't picking it up that fast – it was sort of pathetic in the most adorable kind of way. He just couldn't fucking get his fingers to react fast enough, so Frank got an idea. Sure, part of the idea was to help Gerard, but since Gerard was coping now, there was a little bit of an ulterior motive to Frank's actions.

"Here," Frank said, motioning towards himself, "Sit on my lap."

From the opposite end of the couch, Gerard just laughed. "Why the fuck?"

"Seriously," Frank smiled, "Just – you'll see."

"Alright, then." Gerard sighed, rolling his eyes jokingly.

He stood up, guitar in one hand, and stepped over in front of Frank.

"Hope I don't crush you." Gerard muttered.

"Oh, please." Frank replied, as Gerard sat in his lap. It was a little awkward, with Gerard being the taller of the two – he scooted down and Frank tried to sit taller so they were both even with each other. Gerard felt soft, and he wasn't heavy at all.

"Okay," Frank said once they were situated, and on cue, Gerard repositioned the guitar so he could play it. "So, I'm just gonna..." Frank trailed off, laying his arms and hands over Gerard's, sort of like the cliche golfing move, except with the guitar. Gerard got a sense of what he was doing.

"Okay, ready?" Frank asked.

"Ready." Gerard replied.

Frank made an attempt – although it wasn't much more than an attempt, at guiding Gerard's fingers to the right places. It worked on some parts, but it completely backfired in others. Oh well, it was a college try that left them both laughing at the failure.

"Gerard?" Frank said, after they'd given up and Gerard set the guitar beside them on the couch.

"Yeah?" Gerard shifted so he was sideways in Frank's lap.

"Are you happy?" Frank asked genuinely.

Gerard smiled, and nodded. So, seeing as how he was indeed alright, Frank kissed him. He pulled back to see Gerard's reaction – still apparently happy, and Gerard initiated the next kiss. He had a pretty good idea of what Frank was doing here, and for Gerard, it was all systems go right then. They continued to kiss, not so innocently after a few seconds, and Frank moved his hands down Gerard's stomach and to his thighs, causing Gerard to get chills and his heart to jump to his throat in the most amazing way possible.

Gerard tilted his head back so it rest on Frank's shoulder, he kissed at Frank's neck and jawline, and said, "I'm so fucking smitten with you, Frankie." 

Frank giggled at his choice of words – either very poor or intentionally genius, regardless, the tone in his voice and hot breath prickling at Frank's neck was causing him a problem that wasn't that much of a problem at all.

Everything outside of the apartment may as well have not existed, cause all that mattered to them right then was each other, and what was happening next. Frank met Gerard's mouth again, and squeezed his thighs. Gerard moaned, very softly and quietly into Frank's mouth, and grinded into his lap – Gerard knew what he was doing, and that was becoming rather clear to Frank. 

Frank trailed his hand back up, and over Gerard's crotch – fuck yeah, they were so doing this, and Gerard was going to redeem himself by attempting to be a kinky little shit. In response to Frank's hand, Gerard pulled away and gave him the most seductive look he could manage, before taking Frank's hand in his own, and to Frank's surprise, bringing his hand up to Gerard's mouth, kissing his knuckles, and placing a couple of Frank's fingers in his mouth.

That only increased the not-problem for Frank, seeing Gerard so eager, hollowing his cheeks around Frank's fingers, and the wetness of his mouth. He could only take so much of that before needing to progress the situation, and seeing as how the guitar was taking up residence on the rest of the couch while there was a perfectly good bedroom just a few steps away, Frank removed his fingers from Gerard's mouth with a wet noise following it. 

He squeezed Gerard's thighs again, signaling for him to get up, and he did, pulling Frank up by the hand with him.

"Bedroom." Frank said, and Gerard beat him there. 

Gerard wasted no time laying down on his back, and spreading his legs so Frank could lay between them and grind against Gerard while kissing him. 

"I want you to fuck me," Gerard breathed out between kisses.

Frank kissed down his neck, his chest, and stomach, and sat up on his knees to undo his own belt and zipper, as Gerard stripped off his jacket and shirt. It was a flurry of movement and pounding hearts, and Frank's pants were halfway down his thighs while Gerard struggled to get his own pants off and the pressure of the fabric off his dick as soon as humanly possible. 

Here they were again, trying for the second time to have sex – adrenaline was rushing through them and nothing was going to stop this moment now. Frank took over for Gerard and undid his pants, Gerard pulled them down around his ankles – and the next article of clothing that would have to go, aside from Frank's shirt, was their underwear. Fuck. Yes. They were both so fucking ready for this.

And then Frank's cellphone rang.

"Fuck it." He said, taking off his shirt and tossing it aside.

Their pants weren't exactly all the way off, so that made movement a little awkward, and the cellphone was kind of killing the mood, but Gerard slid his boxers down, and it became official, as if it weren't before, that they were fucking doing this.

The phone stopped ringing, thankfully, and Frank paused to take in the sight of Gerard – he was no doubt, the single most beautiful person Frank had ever seen. Gerard giggled at his staring, snapping Frank out of it and back to the task at hand, which was pulling down his own boxers, and then the phone started to ring again.

"Fuck's sake, just answer it." Gerard sighed.

"It can wait." Frank said, bending over Gerard and kissing him, and then, fucking finally, meeting his hips to Gerard's, and grinding skin on skin, and – oh, it was awesome.

God, they were so fucking close to actually having sex – the phone stopped ringing again, and they could focus on each other. Gerard wished Frank would stop teasing and just fuck him already.

The lube was in the nightstand at the top of the bed, and the two of them were at the bottom of the bed, so Frank deemed that as being too far away in such a dire situation as this, and decided spit would do just fine.

Gerard was starting to squirm under him and buck his hips up, Frank stuck two fingers in his own mouth – and damn if the phone didn't ring for the third time.

"Answer the fucking phone." Gerard said, letting his head fall back on the bed, annoyed.

If someone tried calling three times in a row, they probably really needed to speak, so Frank took his phone out of the back pocket of his pants, still halfway down his thighs, and laid down beside Gerard.

He didn't recognize the number, and put it on speaker.

"Hello?" Frank answered, just wishing this would go quickly.

"Mr. Iero?" A deep voice said.

Gerard and Frank exchanged rightfully confused glances, and this was totally killing the mood.

"Speaking." Frank replied.

"This is Mr. Kovlov." 

*

Getting redressed was a nervous blur, they tried to talk themselves out of worrying – Mr. Kovlov said his wife was okay now, but really the attempts were futile and they knew it. They were worried sick about her, and the drive to the hospital was awfully silent. Gerard held Frank's hand the entire way.

No one liked the coldness of hospitals and sitting in rooms filled with people in tears and their stomachs tied in knots. Gerard and Frank were able to go back immediately to see Mrs. Kovlov. She was asleep when they arrived, and Mr. Kovlov explained her confusion, the numbness in her limbs, the head aches – she just ignored all the signs of a stroke.

As if it could not have been timed more perfectly, a nurse came in to check on Mrs. Kovlov after Mr. Kovlov finished explaining. Gerard and Frank were asked to step out while the nurse was in there. Leaning against the wall outside of the room, Gerard could tell Frank was disquieted, he radiated nervousness and Gerard did all he knew to do – just be there for him. The roles were switched for once, and now it was Gerard who was holding and comforting Frank.

Gerard's phone started to ring – and after this rollercoaster of a week, they were both beginning to associate phone calls with bad news, but Gerard looked to see who was calling anyway.

Mikey.

"Hey." Gerard answered.

"Hey," Mikey said with a smile in his voice, "So, Kristen said yes."


	31. Cliche

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little short - also, this is kind of that time jump I was talking about since the days aren't detailed.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

Kovlov didn't wake up for the rest of the visit, eventually Gerard and Frank left, and for the remainder of the day, could not get back in high spirits. As planned, Gerard went home that evening, and was successful again in not getting caught by his parents. Once Tim got home, though, it was apparent that he was getting a cold, and he said he'd be staying home tomorrow, which just fucked everything up for Gerard because he couldn't be with Frank when he needed him.

It wasn't fucking fair – Gerard felt like him and Frank could never catch a goddamn break to just fucking be together without having to worry about anything in their personal lives or having to sneak around. Frank wanted to cry – he spent the rest of the night with a nervous cold feeling washing over him and a rock in the pit of his stomach, and he just fucking wanted Gerard to be there with him and for Mrs. Kovlov to be okay, but he had an all too uneasy feeling.

Then on the total opposite end of the spectrum, there was Mikey. Mikey was engaged, the love of his life said yes, and Gerard was so torn between feelings he had no control over. On one hand he was ecstatic and on the other he was pissed and upset. The world was kind of a sick place sometimes.

Gerard didn't like it, but if he could go back to March when he first started classes with Kovlov and first met Frank, he so would. He'd just bite the fucking bullet and get together with Frank immediately, he'd avoid all the wrong things he did with his parents, and he'd force Kovlov to get some fucking medical attention and maybe things would be better now.

But life didn't work like that and it never would, and making the best out of a horrible situation didn't seem all that reasonable then, so Gerard raided the stash under his bed for the second time without Mikey, and proceeded to stretch and exert himself as much as he could in the space of his basement, not even feeling it when everything hurt this time. 

That was a total mistake, as Gerard learned the next day. First of all, everything was sore and he couldn't bend over hardly at all for his back pain, and secondly, the hangover. The fucking hangover left him oh so tempted to use the hair of the dog method, but common sense talked him out of it.

Tim being home didn't make things any better, but at least he was sick, so therefor, minded his own fucking business for the most part. Gerard stayed out of his way and downed as much water as he could without exploding during the first half of the day. The second half was an entirely different story.

Long about noon, Gerard was interrupted while doing homework by a phone call – someone by an unknown number with a New York area code, and to Gerard, it screamed bad news, but there was little to no choice – he had to answer it, and he was floored. The first thing he did? Call Frank to tell him what happened.

"Frank?" Gerard said before Frank had time to say hello. "You're not going to believe this, I can't even believe it."

"What is is it?" Frank asked, his voice sounded raspy, but not in a good way.

"I got the part." Gerard beamed through his everlasting head ache.

There was a small pause before Frank replied, "Oh, babe – that's great! I'm so proud of you."

They talked for a little while longer and made plans to go out when Tim wasn't home, and hung up. 

Much to everyone's surprise, it seemed like they finally did catch a break after all. The week passed with little to no incident, Tim returned to work the following day leaving Gerard and Frank to be with each other – Frank was still upset, but he'd been able to visit Mrs. Kovlov while she was awake, and that was slightly reassuring to him. She was in bad shape, honestly, but still alive, and that's what Frank held on to.

Neither Frank nor Gerard tried anything sexual for fear of getting interrupted for the third fucking time – that, and the mood was never quite right. 

Gerard's back pain was concerning to Frank. He'd seen plenty of injuries and chronic aches in his short time of teaching, and pain like what Gerard described wasn't 'nothing' like he insisted. It was getting to the point of where Frank was noticing Gerard wincing occasionally, and he urged him to go to a chiropractor, but the answer was always variations of the same thing. 'It's nothing, it's not a big deal, don't worry, I'm fine'.

However, Gerard did take Frank's advice on one thing – slow down. Just take it easy, because with upcoming rehearsals and performances, he really did not want his back fucked up. And luckily, when Gerard went to his much anticipated first day of rehearsal, his back barely hurt – but he kept pain pills with him, just in case.

While Gerard had rehearsals that kept him fairly busy, Frank was left to look for another job. There were a couple that he found that looked promising, so he applied. He wouldn't have been surprised if someone he'd just worked with applied to one of them, too.

Sometime during the week, Mrs. Kovlov was released from the hospital. She was advised to take it easy for awhile – but it's the same woman who outright ignored stroke symptoms we're talking about, here. She was back at her studio the following day.

That was hugely relieving for Frank – knowing she was pretty much recovered, and the fact that his boyfriend was doing what he wanted in life, and not only that, but there hadn't been another incident with either of his parents. Gerard kept him informed – he was still always on edge around Tim, so was Lisa, and the nice act was just scary. Gerard knew he could go back to being an abusive asshole with the flip of a switch, so he treaded lightly and spent as little time in Tim's presence as he could.

Like Gerard expected and truly hoped, church was a little less torturous with Patrick around. The guy was really sweet and earnest and clearly tried to not offend a single soul – at times. There were a few times when he just let it fly about something that was pissing him off and all Gerard could do was just stare.

Later on Sunday afternoon, Gerard potentially risked it all, by asking if he could go hang out with friends. Yeah, friends, with a 's'. Tim and Lisa played twenty-one questions, as per usual, and Gerard didn't have a choice but to spill all the beans. Yes, Frank would be there. No, it was not at his apartment. No, they would not be going multiple places. The other guys' names were Bert and Ray. Yes, he'd be home by six and not a minute later. 

And just like that, he left early so they couldn't change their minds. Although, he did bring some more of his things along, too, along with his guitar, and neither Tim or Lisa noticed.

Being independent was a feeling that Gerard could never get enough of – driving to and from rehearsals that were the beginning of his life and career by himself, being there all day long alone, and being able to see Frank when he could, and now going to hang out with friends on his own – there was nothing better than this freedom.

Before recently, the only other freedom Gerard knew was on stage.

Gerard told Frank he'd be leaving early to avoid drama, so the plan was for him to spend some time with Frank and then they'd carpool to Ray and Bert's place.

He set his guitar case down to knock on the door with one hand, while the other arm was occupied with some dance apparel, regular clothes, a few books, and a bag of some of his makeup. If someone didn't know any better, they'd say he was slowly but surely moving in.

But Frank did know better, and even he was curious as to whether or not Gerard was subtly trying to do just that, and he didn't know whether or not to say anything about it.

He opened the door and at first was a little surprised to see the things Gerard had, his immediate reaction was to relieve him of some of it and usher him in. They set Gerard's things on the dresser in the bedroom, like the other day.

"Hey, um – left side of the closet?" Frank motioned with his head, "All yours."

Gerard looked up from stacking his books together, "You're okay with that?"

Frank smiled, and nodded. "Definitely. And y'know, whatever else is here is all yours, too."

Although Gerard smiled, Frank could see a little bit of skepticism in his eyes, like a 'am I missing something, why are you telling me this?' kind of look.

Frank shrugged, "If you wanna move in, I just want you to know it's more than okay."

Gerard smiled, and then that quickly progressed into a giggle.

"Um, did I read the situation wrong?" Frank asked with confusion all over his face.

"No," Gerard began, facing Frank, "It's just that I'm moving into my boyfriend of one month's apartment at the ripe old age of eighteen." He glanced down and then back up at Frank, "I'm such a fucking teenage cliche."

*

Thankfully, the mood stayed light for the rest of the evening. Before they left for Ray and Bert's, there was enough time for Gerard to hang his clothes in Frank's closet – which, was now kind of their closet. It was sorta cramped, and it wasn't even all Gerard's clothes, but it was the best they could do with what they had, and they wouldn't change it if they could. He'd put his other things where they now belonged some other time.

Gerard didn't know how long it would be until he could completely and totally be gone from his parents' house, he figured he'd just slowly move his things from one place to the other, spend less and less time there, and just never go back one day. It kinda stung. Beneath the surface of the fucking teenage cliche thing, deeper than the attraction they had for each other, it hurt to know that this was mainly brought on by Tim's fucking abusive behavior, and that Gerard had to get out of there while he could. It hurt to know that he was leaving his parents, sneaking away from them, and not coming back.

It especially hurt thinking about his mom. Since that revelation, she'd been making a conscious effort to be a better person, imagine the guilt and confusion she'd feel when she realized her sons were just gone, and all she had left was Tim, her thoughts of what she did wrong, and an empty house haunted by what once was.

As painful as those thoughts were to Gerard, the years he spent there were worse, and his want to be with Frank far outweighed the sadness of leaving.

After loading their guitars into Frank's car, they were off to Ray and Bert's apartment for a few hours of jamming. For Frank, things couldn't get much better.


	32. Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOTE! Because of the progression of time their appearances change in the fic and I'll add a photo each time it changes! Totally doesn't need a photo but visuals are cool so it's getting one.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

 

As Gerard expected, he was hardly able to keep up with the other guys, and mostly just watched unless the chords were simple. It did take awhile for them to really get going, though, there was a lot of talking and catching up to do and just generally over-due hanging out. Gerard actually missed those two more than he thought, they were weird but loveable as hell.

After talking for awhile, Gerard learned that The Used wanted to go on tour within the next year or two, and Bert said he hoped they could find another band to go with – problem was, they just couldn't find another band that had the sound they wanted to tour with. Not that the local bands weren't talented, they were – it's just that their sound wouldn't go well with The Used.

Gerard joked that Mikey knew how to play bass, Frank and Ray were two of the best guitarists in New York, and Patrick knew a guy who played drums – they should totally form a ragtag band to tour with The Used.

"And my brother had a band name picked out before he went to college," Gerard said to Bert.

"Yeah?" Bert said, "What was it?"

Gerard squinted, "I don't really remember, but I know it had something to do with romance."

Bert kind of laughed at first, and then he added, "I don't know – that could have potential to be badass. So who's gonna sing?"

"I've heard Frank sing." Ray said, "He'd make a great frontman, and look, he's got the emo hair and everything."

That merited laughs from everyone, even Frank.

"Oh, no." Frank piped up, "Hate to disappoint, but my frontman days are long over and they're never coming back."

"What about you, Gerard?" Ray said, "Do you sing?"

"Uh, not very well." Gerard replied.

"That implies that you do actually sing though." Bert added, "I don't sing well either, but I do it anyway cause I fucking can. Why don't you give it a go?"

"Seriously?" Gerard said, "Like, actually sing right now?"

"Yeah, if you want." Bert replied.

"What if it's embarrassing, though?" Gerard tried to make excuses.

Frank nudged him, "You heard my Pencey Prep CD, it literally cannot be more embarrassing than that, and these guys aren't gonna judge." He said lightly, and smiled.

"He's right," Ray said, "And you probably sound way better than you think."

"You fuckers better not laugh." Gerard gave in, a small smile forming.

Ray and Gerard coordinated – Gerard knew the lyrics to plenty of Bowie songs, and Ray knew the chords to Starman, so while Ray played, that's what Gerard sang. He mostly kept his eyes closed, sometimes he'd look at Frank and pretend they were alone – he got more comfortable the longer the song went on, tried to forget he was singing and listen to Ray's guitar.

He didn't know what to expect, but Frank was not expecting that – Gerard's voice wasn't stereotypically perfect and ideal, but that's part of what made it so good. His voice was beautiful and big, and although he sounded hesitant at first, all that flew out the window by the second verse. Bert kept shooting Frank glances, and sometimes Ray would look up at him, both of them trying to non-verbally communicate with him that Gerard was actually good, like, really good.

"I had no idea you could sing." Frank said first thing when the song was over.

"Dude," Bert said, "I totally respect your dancing, but if there ever comes a time when you don't wanna do that anymore, you should seriously front the romance band, that was amazing."

As usual, Gerard didn't want to leave Frank's apartment that evening, but he had to – there were no excuses for him to be late getting home. Frank held Gerard with his back pressed against the door, kissing him deeply and getting carried away – he bit Gerard's lip, just barely puncturing it, but that was enough to draw blood.

Frank apologized, but Gerard didn't see a reason for him to – he liked it, and he'd think of Frank each time he looked in the mirror.

*

JUNE

One week into June, Frank had another job lined up and it was time for Gerard's first performance – Ray was already half way done with having Brian Molko's project edited, and the release date was set for the mid to end of the month. 

Things were looking up for once.

The times at rehearsals were perhaps some of the best times Gerard had ever had – and everything, his future, his dreams, seemed so real and possible, and he was believing in himself more than ever. Fucking Tim – still mentally abusive whenever he got the chance, had some kind of grudge against Gerard lately resulting in Tim giving him the cold shoulder and evil glares most of the time. But, Gerard would gladly take that any day over the physicality. Things were really working out for him, and daresay, he was truly happy. 

Gerard had even made more friends at rehearsals – none of the dancers were as bitchy and spiteful as the ones at Kovlov's studio, maybe it was because they were professionals and adults – Gerard was the youngest dancer there, as it turned out. Specifically, he was closest with a lady named Laura. Gerard would have never expected to see such an excessively tattooed ballerina, but she was undeniably talented. A few people kidded with her that she was so graceful because of her last name – Grace.

Slowly but surely, Gerard continued to take the things he owned to Frank's apartment, and he was half way there before Lisa noticed. She confronted him, trying to play it cool and not jump to conclusions. Gerard couldn't tell an entire lie, Lisa knew he was leaving his things elsewhere, and she knew it had to be one of his few close friends. He wanted to name Patrick – he would definitely cover for him if he asked, but Lisa would find out the truth one way or another.

Besides, since that eye-opener for Lisa, she made an obvious attempt to be a better parent, she tried to be understanding, and without any outright effort from either of them, they'd become closer since then. So, maybe she would be alright with the full truth – or, the half truth. The full truth would get Gerard grounded for all eternity and a day no matter how understanding Lisa tried to be.

Lisa had only been suspicious for a week – especially since she noticed a mark on Gerard's lip after spending a few hours with Frank. That led her to paying closer attention to small things – especially the way Gerard would talk about Frank in comparison to his other friends.

With Lisa leaning against the doorframe to Gerard's room, and Gerard at his desk, she popped the question before Tim got home that evening.

"I've noticed some of your things missing." Lisa began, "I've seen you leaving and taking things with you." She walked closer to Gerard, arms folded over her chest. She raised her eyebrow expectantly.

"Yeah." He agreed. Well? She was right.

"You can tell me what's going on, Gerard." She said.

Gerard shifted uncomfortably and looked down, trying to think of something without making it obvious he was coming up with a lie. A few seconds passed, and still nothing came, so the truth was looking like the undesirable only choice.

"I'm just," He paused, and looked up at her. "I'm just taking some things to Frank's apartment, no big deal. Y'know, just in case I have to be over there again."

Well, he wasn't lying.

She nodded. "Do you ever visit him?"

"Sometimes." He replied.

"A lot?" Lisa asked, though it sounded more like a correction than a question.

Gerard shrugged and repeated, "Sometimes." His heart rate was going up, she couldn't know they were dating – she absolutely could not. She'd lose it, there'd be anarchy in the streets, the stock market would collapse, and Gerard wasn't one to get a thrill from forbidden love.

"Honey," She leaned on his desk, "I know you. And I know when you have a crush on somebody."

Gerard felt trapped at his desk – Lisa didn't look angry, but he knew he was in so much trouble. Lisa fucking knew he was dating Frank.

"Does Frank know?" She asked, her voice disturbingly calm.

"He knows."

"And what does he think?" Lisa asked.

"Well," He tried to smile and play it off as being lighthearted, but his hands were shaking and he could not bring himself to look her in the eye. "We're dating, so I guess he's cool with it."

He dreaded it, but Lisa's silence was too much, and he had to look up at her to see what was going on. Gerard couldn't read her expression – she just looked blank, and the corners of her mouth were just barely turned down.

"How long did you know?" He managed to ask.

She took a deep breath. "I had suspected it for over a week." She said, "Since you came home with a mark on your lip."

"Are you upset?" Gerard asked.

She didn't answer right away.

"I'm trying not to be." She said, and it sounded like the facade she always had to have up was just gone. He'd never heard her like that. "I suppose you can't decide who you have feelings for, and he's not exactly your teacher anymore, so..." She trailed off. "He's nice to you?"

"You have no idea." Gerard smiled.

"And you both truly like each other?" She continued.

"I'd say it's more like love." Gerard said, feeling a little awkward to be telling his mom this. "I've never felt anything like what I feel towards him, Mom. And I know he feels the same way, y'know – I just know he does, I can't explain it." He paused before adding, "I'm happy when I'm with him."

Lisa took another deep breath. "Then I guess that's all that matters." She smiled – a very tiny smile, but it was there, and it was evident she was trying to be okay with this. She nodded again, mostly to herself and folded her arms back across her chest. "I'm going to go get started on dinner."

She turned to leave, and just before she got to the door, she came to a stop, and looked back to Gerard.

"Honey?" She said.

"Yeah?" He looked up.

"Use those condoms." Lisa said, hardly able to get it out of her mouth before cracking up.

Gerard was stunned, disgusted, and horrified, and all he could manage was squeaking out a distressed noise, while Lisa just fucking laughed. Although it was at Gerard's expense, it felt good to see Lisa laughing for once.

*

The first night of performing brought nerves, excitement, anticipation, and restlessness, and Gerard welcomed it with open arms. He'd never shaken so much before a performance before, and he stayed in a cold sweat the whole day. The ballet was running every other day for two weeks – and if he was going to spend every other day of those two weeks in a state of nerves like he was in then, all he could think was fucking bring it on.

This was living.

Just to be safe, he'd taken a few pain killers. His back pain was regular now. It would go away with a few pills and a pop, but without that he was reminded of it everytime he bent over too far. Gerard stopped talking about it with Frank, and as far as he knew, his parents were unaware of it. He mentioned it to Laura once, she said she'd heard of something similar and that the person had to see a chiropractor.

Of course seeing a chiropractor was what Gerard should've done, and he knew it – but it was too fucking scared. If he just kept telling himself it was nothing, then it was nothing. If he kept relieving the pain with just a few pills sometimes and popping his back every night, it was nothing. If it was prohibiting him from doing anything, it was nothing. But in the unlikely case that a chiropractor diagnosed it as something, then it was no longer nothing, and that's what he was afraid of.

It was a full house, and Gerard had several people that had come only to support him, including his parents. Of course Frank was there, he wouldn't miss it for anything. Ray and Bert had time so they came, and even Patrick showed up on a date with Pete – who was in town visiting. It made Gerard's heart swell knowing he had people that loved him enough to be there. 

The only people missing were Mikey and Kristin, but Gerard told them the dates, and they'd be able to make it to the last performance.

Frank was feeling all the second-hand emotions Gerard was feeling at full force, and he kept fidgeting in his seat in the theatre – it was so fucking close to show time and he could hardly wait. To his left was Bert and Ray, he'd tried looking around to see if he could spot Tim and Lisa, but to no avail.

Backstage, Gerard felt like he was going to explode. He stayed by Laura's side as much as possible and she did her best to mentor him, like she did in rehearsals. This was much different though, there were no do-overs or second chances because this was the real fucking deal, and it was about to begin.

Eventually, and for Frank what felt like an eternity later, the lights dimmed, and it was showtime.

The ballet lasted two hours, and in total, Gerard was on stage for a good forty-five minutes. He didn't stand out quite as much as he had during Kovlov's recital – because now, he was finally in his league, and he held his own up there, outshining a few of the professionals.

At first, Bert and Ray were fairly certain the the ballet wouldn't interest them, but they were entirely wrong – Frank could hear them whispering to each other, things like, 'holy shit dude did you see that!? How the fuck did she bend like that!'

Frank stayed on the edge of his seat during the times Gerard was onstage, and Gerard knew he was with him in spirit. Like usual, most of Gerard's nerves went away when he was dancing, and he felt truly alive, fueled by the electricity seemingly buzzing in the air, and the feeling of being purely and truly free.

There's no other word to describe the applause than as thunderous, and they got a standing ovation. Gerard didn't feel like he would ever be able to come down from the high he felt, his heart pounded and he felt weightless stepping off the stage – and he knew this was just the beginning.

*

Some way, some how, Gerard was determined to not go home with Tim and Lisa – and even with the help of Laura telling them she'd take care of him while a bunch of the performers went out to celebrate, Lisa could tell something was a little shady about it, but she said okay, and even though Tim didn't want him to, Lisa encouraged him that much more.

It wasn't a foolproof plan, at all – his parents would see in the morning that his car was gone, maybe they'd assume he went somewhere, but since that was so unlikely, they'd know he hadn't come back at all, but he felt ready to deal with it and he knew Lisa wouldn't worry – cause she had an idea of what was going on.

Once they both got to Frank's apartment, Gerard still hadn't come off the high and his emotions were infectious for Frank – they were two lovestruck guys with a lot of adrenaline who couldn't keep their hands off of each other, and they barely got through the lobby and into the elevator without causing a scene. 

Thankfully alone in the elevator, Frank had Gerard against the back wall, making out with him and grinding on him – all the way up to their floor, all Gerard could think about was getting that suit off of Frank as soon as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted Laura Jane Grace in here somewhere


	33. Post-Performance Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

The elevator dinged, and Frank dragged Gerard out by his wrist and down the hall to his apartment. As soon as Frank shut the door, Gerard pinned him against it, pressing into him and grinding on him now – he felt Frank getting hard, things were getting hot and intense quickly. It's been so long since Frank's fucked anyone or been fucked – too long, and he's never wanted to more in his life. 

Gerard pulled back so his lips were just barely gracing Frank's. "We're actually doing it this time." He breathed as he trailed his hands down Frank's sides and hooked his fingertips under his waistband. Frank chuckled.

"Yeah," He said, "Finally."

Gerard looked down to undo Frank's belt, while he kissed and bit and Gerard's neck and ear, sending chills down his body – once Frank's belt was loose, he shed his jacket and let it fall to the floor. He went down on his knees, and held Gerard around his waist, first nuzzling at his crotch while Gerard placed a firm hand on top of Frank's head, rubbing with his thumb. 

He let his head fall back as Frank unbuckled his belt, hips swaying when Frank pulled it off and discarded it to the side, he unzipped and unbuttoned Gerard's jeans in a swift, fluid motion, and pulled them down, bunched around his thighs. Frank pushed Gerard's shirt up over his stomach, out of the way, and Gerard held it there with his free hand.

Gerard looked down, watching and feeling Frank palming at his dick through the fabric of his boxers made his heart pound and the reality sunk in that, holy shit, they're about to have sex. Gerard couldn't help smiling and outright giggling over the fact that this was finally happening in a perfect situation.

Smiling at his giggling, Frank kissed just above the waistband of Gerard's boxers – Gerard could feel the wetness of Frank's mouth, his teeth pressed against him – replaced by the hotness of his forehead now against Gerard's stomach, as Frank looked down at his hands, slowly tugging Gerard's boxers down. His skin prickled with goose bumps and he felt completely exposed in the most amazing way.

In response, he rubbed Frank's head, messing up his hair. They both felt elated and needless to say, horny, and like they were both virgins about to fuck for the first time – Gerard was far less experienced than Frank and he couldn't help being just a little nervous, which turned him on that much more. He let out a tiny gasp at the feeling of Frank's mouth around the tip of his dick, and his hand around the base.

Frank bobbed his head, just a little to tease him, before pulling off and swiftly standing up.

"Fucker." Gerard barely managed to say before Frank's mouth was back on his.

Frank started towards the bedroom, not waiting for Gerard to pull his pants up so that he could walk properly – Gerard entered the bedroom to see Frank by the bed kicking off his shoes. He glanced up at Gerard standing in the door way and they made eye contact for a brief second, somehow Frank still looked up at him so purely and sweetly while Gerard was doing his best at giving Frank 'fuck me' eyes.

It made Gerard crack up and realize it was totally weird and unnecessary – he walked over to Frank and faced him, reaching out to the collar of his shirt.

"What's funny?" Frank asked.

Gerard shook his head, unbuttoning Frank's shirt starting from the top. Frank held on to Gerard's hips as he unbuttoned his shirt – the tender sensation of fabric and fingertips brushing over his chest was going straight to his dick.

"I love you." Gerard said.

Frank still got butterflies at hearing those words. "I love you, too." He let go of Gerard's hips long enough to take off his shirt – Gerard traced his fingers softly down Frank's stomach, the moment wasn't as desperate now as it was gentle and slow. Frank raised his hand to Gerard's chin, and rubbed his thumb across his lower lip. Gerard glanced up at him, and Frank leaned in to kiss him – deeply and passionately. 

In a not so suave movement, Frank backed up to the bed and attempted to lay back, which ended up more of a clumsy falling back onto it, Gerard rolled over onto his back and off of Frank to start taking his shoes off – seeing this, Frank removed his own pants, and basically tackled Gerard once they were off, which resulted in both of them laughing. 

Gerard pushed him off – Frank took advantage of the access to Gerard's pants, and pulled them and his boxers all the way down this time, and Gerard kicked them the rest of the way off and stripped off his shirt, while Frank slid off his own boxers. Gerard's heart beat a little harder and everything just tingled now at the realization that they were both naked. 

On their sides and facing each other again, Frank pulled Gerard's leg up at his knee so his leg rested over Frank's waist, making the space between them nonexistent. They kissed again, cool air washed over Gerard – he leaned in closer to Frank, feeling his body heat and his skin pressed against Gerard's. Gerard draped his arms around Frank, almost absentmindedly rutting against his stomach softly, his dick needing the friction.

Frank kissed from his mouth to his cheek before pulling back and asking, "You've done this before, right?"

"Mmhmm." Gerard hummed.

"Do you want to top?" Frank asked, his tone low and sweet.

Gerard shook his head, "No, I want you to."

Frank stroked his thigh, "Okay. If you wanna stop, or if something doesn't feel good, just say so."

Gerard nodded – Frank kissed the tip of his nose and stood up, getting the lube out of the night stand while Gerard moved to the center of the bed. He laid on his back and watched Frank, trying to relax and shake away the nerves, trailing the tips of his fingers down his breast bone. Frank paused to look him up and down, feeling so in love at such a beautiful sight – it was more than just Gerard laying there completely open and comfortable, it was so much deeper than that, and when they fucked it'd be about more than just getting off.

It'd be something Frank had never really felt with someone before, and he wanted to treat Gerard gently and make him feel so good.

"What are you smiling at?" Gerard asked, beginning to smile himself.

Frank didn't even realize he had a closed mouth smile on his face. "Just smiling at you." He got on his knees on the bed and leaned over Gerard, "Cause you're so fucking beautiful." He pressed his mouth into the crook of Gerard's neck, and jokingly blew a wet raspberry, sending Gerard into a fit of giggles, and it helped calm him down.

"What the fuck?" Gerard managed to say as Frank was now laying on top of him, careful not to put all of his body weight on him. "Do you have some kind of laughing kink? Cause this is no doubt the smiliest, happiest sex I've ever heard of." 

Frank hovered above Gerard so that their noses were nearly touching. "I love seeing you happy." Frank said. Gerard smiled, and kissed him – his hands trailed along Frank's sides and down to his hips, he squeezed. "You ready?" Frank asked.

"Yeah." 

Frank sat up, got the bottle of lube, and squeezed some out on his fingers.

"Frank?" Gerard said. 

"Yeah, babe?" Frank looked down at him.

"I'm a little nervous." Gerard admitted.

"Why is that?" Frank closed the lube and set it aside.

"I don't know," Gerard replied, "It's been awhile since I've done this – I know you're not going to hurt me, but..." He trailed off. "But I guess I'm just nervous because I love you? Like, I think I'm really in love with you, Frank."

"I feel the same way." Frank confessed. Gerard smiled – cause y'know, happiest sex ever. "You're sure you're ready?"

"I'm sure." Gerard readjusted himself and bent his knees so Frank could prep him easier. "I mean it this time."

"Okay." Frank said, barely audible – he leaned over Gerard and supported himself with his free arm, kissing Gerard as he slid a lubed finger in, careful to not hurt him or go too fast – all he knew was that Gerard wasn't a virgin, he didn't know what he could take or what would be too much.

It didn't hurt at all – Gerard was relaxed enough so that one finger didn't feel like much of anything, but he inhaled a little sharply at how cold it felt at first, making him want Frank closer. Because of the slow and building friction and just generally the warmth inside Gerard caused the cold to go away soon.

Frank added another finger – that was a little more uncomfortable and cold, but it was okay. Gerard pushed Frank's bangs back behind his ears to look him in the eye, and Gerard saw a best friend, a lover, a boyfriend, someone he loved more than anyone looking back, and there was nowhere he'd rather be, nothing he'd rather be doing than being here connecting with Frank on a deeper, emotional, and physical level with his fingers deep inside him.

At this point, Gerard was so hard his dick was throbbing – and he suddenly felt a jolt of pleasure from Frank's finger hitting his prostate. Gerard loved it, he loved every minute of it, but that was enough prep, he wanted Frank to fuck him, wanted Frank to feel good, too.

"Come on," Gerard breathed, "Fuck me."

"One more finger," Frank replied, "Just to be safe." He lowered his head to Gerard's chest and kissed the center of it, adding a third finger, and Gerard felt the familiar cold again along with the brief sting of more stretching – he tilted his head back against the pillows and closed his eyes, stroking Frank's sides.

Gerard was sinking into the feeling of Frank's fingers sliding in and out of him, so fucking slow and gentle. Frank moved his mouth to Gerard's nipple and licked, and sucked – getting a surprised reaction from Gerard.

"Ah – fuck I didn't know I was into that." The tone in Gerard's voice caused Frank to laugh, and in turn Gerard laughed – fuck, they could not take this seriously, not that they should've, not that they wanted to. Frank looked back up at Gerard, who was still smiling and somehow looking as innocent as ever even with three of Frank's fingers in him – and wow, Frank thought, he'd never seen someone so precious.

He didn't know what else to do, how to get closer to him, so Frank removed his fingers from Gerard's ass and buried his face in his neck, pressing his body into Gerard's, just holding him close and taking everything in before getting back on his knees, and picking up the lube.

Gerard watched, eager, while Frank lubed his dick, tossed the bottle aside and wiped his hands on his thighs. He glanced down at Gerard before moving, waiting for him to give the o-k. Gerard sat up, and to Frank's surprise, Gerard held onto his shoulders, and positioned himself so that he was straddling Frank's thighs – their bodies pressed together and Gerard's dick between their stomachs.

Frank wrapped his arms around Gerard to keep him steady and staying in the position that was honestly a little awkward, but Frank liked it anyway. Gerard reached behind himself, finding Frank's dick – he lifted his hips up a little to guide it in, and kind of sitting back down on it. Frank could feel Gerard's breath on his neck as he did so.

The pressure was amazing for Frank, he closed his eyes and exhaled – it had been a hot minute since either of them had had sex – longer for Gerard than for Frank, and despite going at a slow pace and being relaxed, suddenly being filled up like that made him feel like he couldn't move at first, and it stung a little, but he knew it would feel better soon.

To start off, they tried to find a rhythm – it was a little awkward for Frank to thrust in such a position, so Gerard did most of the moving, first rocking his hips against Frank, then bouncing slowly. That seemed to do it – it felt good for Gerard, it was just enough so that it didn't hurt, and it was teasingly good for Frank, a little bit rougher friction would have been better, but he could last like this and come from it.

And that's how they stayed for a little while – Frank found a rhythm with Gerard's bouncing, they both unintentionally sped up before long, Gerard let out a high pitched moan, and fuck, maybe Frank wouldn't last as long as he thought. He took one arm away from Gerard – only then realizing how sweaty they'd become, and wrapped his hand around Gerard's dick, jacking him off.

That, and the occasional bump to Gerard's prostate, was quickly sending him to the edge and his bouncing was becoming irregular.

"Ah, ah, fuck," Gerard moaned, "Fuck, I'm.." He closed his eyes, he was about to fucking lose it – just before another thrust or bump could tip him over the edge, he felt himself being laid back on the cool sheets which felt so good on his sweating back, and opened his eyes to look at Frank.

Frank stayed on his knees and held onto Gerard's hips so he could thrust properly – and fuck, that was a hot sight – Frank's body slick with sweat and his mouth open just slightly, and, oh god, the way he tipped his head back and that fucking moan. He squeezed Gerard's hips a little harder, his thrusting slowing down to a stop and his breathing became heavy, obviously having had an orgasm.

He pulled out, and went down on Gerard – licking at the tip of his dick and then taking him in deeper, Frank stroked his dick as he sucked and bobbed his head, and Gerard was just done – he couldn't give Frank more warning than his thighs tensing and back arching before he came in Frank's mouth with a moan – pleasure surged through him and his heart pounded. 

Gerard came off the orgasm high, opening his eyes and closing his mouth, realizing Frank was looking at him and stroking his thighs. Gerard smiled at him, cause goddamn that felt good – and it finally happened. Frank couldn't resist that smile, so he found himself smiling back, and laid down beside the love of his life. 

They couldn't get close enough, but they settled for just pressing against each other, with Frank's arm around Gerard and with Frank's head on his shoulder – they laid still, feeling each other's skin, hearing each other's breathing getting softer while they cooled off.

"I love you so much." Frank said.

"I love you, too." Gerard said – Frank heard a smile in his voice. Yeah, happiest sex ever. "Can we make post-performance sex a regular thing?"

Frank laughed. "Yeah," He said, "Hell yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There a probably a couple of typos here cause I proof read it sitting across from my mom in school... yeah, it was awkward and homeschool is cool. rhyme not intended. Anyway, I'll fix it later but I wanted the chapter out asap!
> 
> Bonus, 66996 words on the sex chapter lmao


	34. Morning After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

It was about one in the morning when Frank woke up, him and Gerard still in nearly the same position as earlier – Frank took a moment to relive the events earlier that night, his heart beat a little faster at the recollection. He raised up and looked down at Gerard, still sleeping. Without disturbing him, Frank managed to cover Gerard up, and slid under the covers himself to settle back beside him.

This was definitely something Frank could get used to, and something he never realized he wanted until now – a best friend to love and to be with through it all, through the ups and downs, through intimate moments like these where he had the pleasure of being beside the person he loved, breathing him in and seeing him so peaceful.

Gerard rolled over in his sleep, cuddling closer to Frank, and soon, Frank was asleep again.

The next thing Gerard knew, it was unmistakably morning, he wasn't in his bed, but instead in a warm embrace, hearing a heart beating under his head – memories came back upon realizing he was naked. He raised up carefully and shifted away from Frank to stretch out his arms – inhaling sharply, and discovering that he was kinda sore, but whatever. It was a good kind of sore.

"Morning." Frank said in a raspy, though gentle voice. 

Gerard opened his eyes, looking over at Frank who appeared to have just woken up.

"Morning." Gerard repeated back to him.

What a perfect way to wake up.

Gerard relaxed on his back, while Frank scooted closer to him, propping up on his arm above him – Gerard was so in love with that gorgeous face he looked up at, the same gorgeous face he saw tilting back and moaning in ecstasy last night because of him – Gerard smiled at the memory of it.

"Feel okay?" Frank asked.

"Mmhmm." Gerard hummed.

Frank leaned over and kissed his forehead, and laid back down.

"Wish we could stay like this forever." Frank thought aloud, and held his hand up for Gerard to hold, squeezing softly.

"Maybe we can." Gerard said, "But for now, we have today. I don't have anywhere to be, and I don't think you do either?"

"Nope, not until later." Frank replied.

"Then yeah," Gerard said, "We have today." He leaned over to kiss Frank on the cheek quickly, and got to his feet. "But first, I'm showering." 

Gerard swayed his hips a little more than necessary over to the bathroom door, before looking back and adding, "You should, too." He smiled, "Come on."

And Frank did not waste time getting up and joining him.

The cold surfaces of the bathroom made them shiver, and they just couldn't seem to keep their hands off of each other. They got distracted from trying to adjust the temperature of the water before stepping into the shower – with Gerard's back pressed against Frank, holding him there and kissing his neck, trailing his hands along the curves of his hips, and to his stomach – he kept a hand there to hold him in place, not that he even need to, while he moved the other hand lower, stroking the skin just above Gerard's dick to tease him and get him hard.

It totally worked.

It wasn't easy to ignore, but Gerard was cold and wanted in the shower. He stuck a hand under the stream, making sure it was a good temperature before stepping in, Frank followed. With warmth dripping over them both, Gerard could focus back on Frank and getting him hard, too. 

He started by kissing his neck and biting softly, grinding against him as he did so – he palmed Frank's dick, which got him hard, leaving the question of how they were going to do this with no lube and a sore ass.

Despite his fleeting time of experimenting, Gerard had somehow never sucked a dick, so it looked like today was his lucky day – though he couldn't think of a better way to do it than with someone he trusted and knew wouldn't judge him too much.

Gerard got on his knees and held onto Frank's waist with one hand, with the other around the base of his dick – Gerard lapped at the head first, sending shivers down Frank's spine, before taking the tip into his hot mouth and sucking, flicking his tongue over the slit. Frank instinctively placed a hand on top of Gerard's head, and laid the other on the hand Gerard had resting on his waist.

He figured if it would feel good to himself, it would probably feel good to Frank, and judging by the soft moans he emitted, it was feeling good. Gerard heard once that vibrations felt hot, so he tried it after taking more of Frank's dick in, he moaned – and slipped his mouth off of his dick, then back in his mouth, yeah, that's what he saw in porn so maybe that's how it was done?

Gerard didn't feel ready to deep throat yet since he just started sucking dick like a minute ago – he hoped Frank would understand his reluctancy and assumed Frank would appreciate not getting vomit on his dick, so yeah. Not a nice thing to think about when performing oral, so Gerard just bobbed his head on how much he could take, pumping the rest of Frank's length with his fist.

"Fuck, that feels good." Frank breathed.

Gerard looked up at him while he hollowed his cheeks, pumping Frank's dick and licking the slit again.

"Ah, ah fuck." Frank moaned, and Gerard was too caught up in seeing the same expression on Frank's face as last night when he came to pull off, so Gerard got an unexpected mouth load of come. He pulled off, laughing, and letting it drip down his chin.

He stood up, and Frank wiped his chin with his thumb before kissing him. Gerard considered telling Frank that he just sucked his first dick, but opted to just not say anything at all. Silence was golden like that.

Frank returned the favor – he got on his knees then, licking at Gerard's stomach and then up and down the length of his dick, before taking him all the way in. Fuck, it was so hot in his mouth and the fucking pressure – Gerard tipped his head back and just enjoyed it, he was all Frank's.

Time was sorta distorted, and before Gerard knew it, he was moaning out a vague warning that he was about to fucking lose it – he felt Frank pull off and jacked him off until he came hard. Frank gave the tip one last, quick lick before getting back to his feet.

The post orgasmic feeling left them both giddy and relaxed – they actually cleaned up afterward, taking turns scrubbing each other down which was totally just another excuse to touch each other, and it lead to back massages with hands that roamed around to plenty of places other than backs, which lead to making out.

Once they were out of the shower and sufficiently dry, Frank followed Gerard back into the bedroom, not even bothering to get dressed, which felt particularly good for Gerard, because he wasn't all that body conscious with Frank. They both settled back under the covers, everything felt soft and gentle now, with light touches and butterfly kisses on each other's skin. It looked like it was going to be a wonderfully lazy day.

"I think last night was one of the best nights of my life." Gerard looked over to Frank.

"Yeah?" Frank said, "Tell me all about it then." He shifted closer to Gerard so he had a clearer view of his face, and could reach his waist to stroke the skin. "I love hearing you talk about things that make you happy."

Gerard smiled. "Well, for starters, fucking performing, like, legitimately performing in a legit ballet."

Frank couldn't help but smile at how amazingly eloquent his boyfriend was.

"I live for that shit, y'know?" Gerard continued, "God, it's like nothing I can even describe – the weightlessness, the adrenaline, it's like fire and ice in the entire building and in me. And then, as if that wasn't enough to deem last night amazing, there's you, and fucking finally having sex with you, and it was hands down the best sex of my fucking life." 

Gerard paused to see Frank's reaction – he looked like he was genuinely listening, which he was, but it was nice seeing that, knowing he was loved, like he needed any more clarification of that.

"I've never felt so good." Gerard stated, "And I've never loved anyone like how I love you, it's weird, but awesome."

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean." Frank replied, "You're different, you're – I don't know. Like, when I look at you, I get this sense of comfort, and the feeling that this is just how it's supposed to be. It's like I'm home, I guess, and home isn't four walls and a roof. It's you."

Gerard smiled, Frank could see a light blush in his cheeks.

"How long have we been dating?" Gerard asked, flicking his eyes to the ceiling, "Like, over a month?"

"Yeah, something like that." Frank replied, "I think it was at the very end of April."

"And now it's a week into June." Gerard stated. He rolled over on his side to look at Frank, their noses nearly touching. "You know this probably isn't normal?" He said in a quieter, more serious voice – a total change from the light mood that the rest of the morning had.

"What isn't?" Frank asked.

"How we feel." Gerard replied simply. "The intensity – in a short amount of time. I don't know, maybe my feelings for you are stronger than what you feel for me, but I don't think people are supposed to fall so hard and so fast."

Frank didn't know what to say – yeah, of course he'd given some thought to what Gerard was saying, his feelings had developed quickly and he was pretty sure a bond like what they had came from a long period of time of being together, not a little over a fucking month.

"Maybe we're soul mates?" Frank said, smiling slightly to try and lighten the mood.

"Probably." Gerard said lightly. "I mean, come on, we both like the Misfits, it's like it was meant to be. Match made in heaven."

"You fucking nerd." Frank laughed.

"Your fucking nerd, actually." Gerard smirked.

"Yeah," Frank gave him a quick peck on the cheek, "And I'm yours." He nuzzled into Gerard's neck and added, "I always will be."

"Not normal." Gerard said again, though his tone was more joking this time as he wrapped his arm around Frank.

"Who gives a fuck about normal?" Frank smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy this fluff and the previous chapter's smut - cause future events ain't too pretty.  
> (Actually I have no idea how many chapters there will be before unfortunate things happen again, all I know is the order in which events take place, the time of the events just depends on how well they'll flow)


	35. Good Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting yesterday. I wasn't inspired, and I don't like to write without being inspired cause then whatever I write is shitty and you guys deserve better and despite this being a first draft I don't want it to be like that when I know it could be better. However, I do promise that I'll never quit writing this (until it's done of course) and I won't let a week go by without at least one update. (but hopefully there'll be an update every day)  
> Thank you guys for sticking around and continuing to read this incredibly drawn out and frequently typo'd fic and then bothering to kudos/comment/bookmark. You totally do not have to waste your time doing those things or reading it but you do anyway and that's pretty awesome, so thank you bunches.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

All good things have to come to an end eventually, cause if they didn't, they wouldn't be so special. Mikey didn't really believe that so much anymore. College was fun for him, and yeah, he was graduating this year, but he wouldn't miss it – and he'd be spending all his time with his fiance, who would be his wife by then. 

The wedding was set for August, they didn't want anything big or extravagant – a simple wedding with close friends and relatives was all they wanted. Then after that, and after Mikey graduated, the good thing they had between them wouldn't end, but it would always be special, amplified by the fact that he was free and always would be, and he knew Gerard was going to be alright, too.

Whatever Frank was like – Mikey didn't know, all he had was word of mouth to go by. Gerard had told him everything from the start about his relationship with Frank, and he made him sound like an amazing guy who Gerard loved and felt safe with. Mikey didn't wanna accuse him of lying or sugar coating anything, or exaggerating, cause like, what would either of them gain from that?

Besides that, he knew Gerard was clear headed and hard to fool, so he had to trust him when he said Frank was nice.

Mikey still worried though, Gerard was his brother so he worried about him all the time because he loved him, and Mikey was rather looking forward to seeing Gerard performing next week, but also meeting Frank.

*

As they'd very briefly discussed, Gerard kept moving his belongings to Frank's apartment whenever he got the chance. By now all that was left in Tim and Lisa's house that belonged to him were essentials that he could take to Frank's in one more trip – it was just a matter of when that would be. When was he officially going to move permenantly? In with his boyfriend, no less – the decision Gerard never thought he'd be making at eighteen, under circumstances he'd never considered.

Frank found himself bored in between jobs – the new film he was working on would start shooting next week, around the time of the premiere of his last. To alleviate his boredom, Frank resorted to tidying up his apartment, and it was only then when he realized how much stuff in his apartment wasn't his, and how soon he wouldn't be able to refer to it as 'his' apartment, it would be 'their' apartment, and he smiled at the thought.

It made him feel good being able to see that – he was kind of sharing his life with someone now, someone he loved, and Gerard was beginning to look at Frank's apartment like it was home. And when he took the last step and officially moved, it would be.

It had been a few days since Gerard's first performance. There had been two more since then and afterward he and Frank would always have sex. When Gerard wasn't needed at the theatre, he was with Frank, and only went home when he had to, just to keep his parents from worrying.

Him and Lisa had this kind of telepathic communication going on – Gerard didn't even have to say anything to her for her to know what was up, with the exception of the whole moving thing. She was still oblivious to that and Gerard didn't even wanna think about how he'd tell her, or not tell her and deal with the guilt.

Of course, they did verbally communicate the day after Gerard's performance – he left Frank's apartment before she got home that evening, and she asked him what was going on despite already having a good idea. Gerard told the truth, although he left out the details. Lisa wasn't happy, but she stayed calm during the conversation. Gerard kind of realized how much effort she was putting into being a better parent, it really warmed his heart to know that and he felt lucky knowing she wouldn't hurt him or reprimand him like she probably would have a few months ago over this.

"Mom?" Gerard added after the conversation, and before Tim was home.

"Yes, honey?" She set the book she was about to open in her lap to pay full attention to him – that was something she became aware of and was trying to change. She hadn't been paying enough attention to her son before.

"Thanks." He said, "You're trying – it means a lot."

Lisa set her book aside altogether and crossed the living room, sitting beside Gerard on the couch and pulling him into a hug.

"I'm sorry it had to come to what it did." She replied.

Gerard didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything at all.

"I will never be able to make up for it." Lisa continued.

He wanted to say something like 'that's okay', it felt natural and that's just what people do to console other people, but truthfully, it wasn't okay. It wasn't okay that he and Mikey were treated like that. It wasn't okay that Tim slapped Gerard and it wasn't okay that then and only then did Lisa realize something was terribly wrong. It wasn't okay that things happened she couldn't make up for. None of it was okay. But what mattered now was that Lisa was trying, and one day in the incredibly near future, more near than he realized, Gerard could try to forget what happened and things could start being okay then. Hell, they were starting already.

"No," Gerard began, pulling away and holding her hand, "No you won't. So let's not focus on that anymore. Let's just focus on now, because now is okay."

Lisa nodded. "Alright. I love you, honey, don't forget that."

"Love you too, Mom." Gerard said, and he meant it. "Don't you forget that either, no matter what."

*

So yeah, all good things come to an end, and that's something Gerard learned the hard way. Tim was unpredictable, Gerard never knew what kind of mood he was going to be in or what he would do or say. Eventually, Gerard would think he'd get used to it, and the unexpected would become the expected, and Tim's moods wouldn't come as a surprise anymore. But they always were just that, a surprise, and Gerard's luck of having a neutral-but-still-pissy Tim coming home from work and sulking around all evening was coming to an end.

It was one of those nights where he didn't have a performance, so he wasn't filled to the brim with adrenaline.

Tim came home, and it was evident by his presence infecting the room and his lack of greeting to Gerard and Lisa that he was in a dark mood, one of those nights where just looked for a reason to get angry. 

Most of Gerard's inner dialogue was thanking a higher power that he had Lisa on his side and Frank to go to just in case things really went South. Or just for the fuck of it cause he didn't wanna deal with negative bullshit, whatever.

Gerard didn't like the way Tim carried himself, he didn't like his voice, he didn't like his presence, he had just grown to dislike everything about Tim. Just being around him made him angry lately.

"What are you looking at, boy?" Tim asked, it sounded like some kind of accusation.

Gerard just shook his head and averted his eyes in reply.

Out of all the things Gerard disliked about Tim, the thing that stood out the most was Tim's ability to strike fear in Gerard.

"That's what I thought." Tim muttered.

Gerard shot him a glare, half hoping Tim would see it and half hoping he wouldn't. He didn't, and Gerard thanked his lucky stars.

Unforuntely, it was one of those nights when Lisa cooked, so to avoid being stuck with Tim in the living room, Gerard thought it best to escape to his room. Down there, he took a look around at his stuff. Some clothes, a quilt and a pillow, a backpack, a few pens and some notebooks – in the bathroom he had a tooth brush, tooth paste, a comb, shampoo. All that stuff, he was going to take with him to Frank's, as soon as he worked up the nerve. That's all that was left.

Gerard took it as a sign of sorts, when he had just enough time to get all of his shit together and in his backpack, save for the quilt and pillow – before his mom called him no sooner than he'd finished that up. Tonight was the last night at this house no matter what was about to happen upstairs.

At the table, Tim brought up what had been on his mind for a few days. He figured he already knew the answer, he just wanted to hear Gerard say it. Say he was out doing god knows what kind of immoral things with god knows what kind of moronic punks.

"Are you going to tell me where you've been disappearing to?" He asked.

Gerard shrugged. "I haven't been disappearing anywhere."

"Don't try to lie to me." Tim said, "I know you spend nights away from here, how stupid do you think I am?"

Pretty fuckin', but Gerard didn't say that.

"I don't." Gerard replied.

"Where do you go?" Tim demanded.

"I hang out with friends." He said.

"You hang out with friends?" Tim echoed, placing emphasis on 'hang out', "You'd rather hang out with people who don't care about you rather than your family? That hurts me, Gerard. Everything I do, I do for you, and you just don't care, do you?" Tim grew angrier with every word, just trying to get a reaction of Gerard.

"Tim." Lisa spoke up.

"You don't give a shit about your family, do you?" Tim kept on, ignoring Lisa.

Gerard had had enough. He was fucking done and he was going to give Tim his honest opinion and just maybe the reaction he was pushing for. It didn't fucking matter anymore, he could say whatever he wanted because he was leaving.

"I give a shit about Mikey." Gerard said, and Tim didn't understand what he was saying at first. "I give a shit about Mom. But you're right, I don't give a shit about you, I never fucking have."

Tim's immediate reaction was to get up, punch something, hurt something, scream – he didn't do that, though, but he felt the blood rushing to his face and he was fucking infuriated. Lisa was just gaping, because she knew her son had just hammered the nails in his own coffin.

"What the hell did you just say to me?" Tim growled, giving Gerard one chance to redeem himself.

Gerard was scared and his world had gone cold, he didn't care if it showed. He just tried not to let his voice shake.

"I don't give a shit about you, Dad." He repeated, raising his voice,"You treat me like shit, I'm fucking terrified of you, you make me feel like I'm suffocating, you're a mentally abusive prick, and I fucking hate you."

Gerard was ready to cry, he was scared and shocked by his own words and Tim surely wasn't helping. He didn't wait for Tim's reaction, he got up immediately after saying those words he could never take back, and to Gerard's horror, Tim got up too, followed by Lisa.

Gerard felt heavy, tight hands squeezing his upperarms before he could take a step.

"Fuck off!" Gerard tried to shake them off and get away from Tim's grasp, but he didn't even have to try that hard – he was roughly pushed forward at a weird, sharp sound, and it wasn't until he turned around that he realized what happened.

There was Lisa, looking up to Tim with an absolutely horrified expression on her face, and there was Tim, glaring down at her with a hand on his cheek.

Oh. Shit.

Lisa could handle herself, Gerard knew she could, so without another second passing, he bolted down to his room, the sounds of his parents outright screaming obscenities at each other followed him. He got his backpack, pillow, and quilt, and came back upstairs to now witness his parents outright screaming `obscenities at each other, and it shook him up.

It was loud and it hurt his ears, but somewhere in there he heard the word divorce, and it came from Lisa's mouth. Silence erupted between them, and Gerard felt like he couldn't move but like he shouldn't be standing there, and like there was no way this was really happening. This could not be happening, and he felt like he was drowning. 

He started to panic, he really said that stuff to his dad, he was really leaving, his mom just said she wanted a divorce. It can't be real life, it can't fucking be. It was too messed up, why couldn't it just be a really bad dream? Why couldn't he just wake up as an innocent nine year old again with a family that looked alright from the outside and pretended to function on the inside, and a brother to shield him from the reality of the matter.

Gerard felt cold and shaky, and somewhere in the chaos he had started to cry. Unfortunately, this was real life. It was really happening, it wasn't a bad dream, and he had to leave. Lisa would understand. He would call later, drop by when Tim wasn't home. It wasn't over between Gerard and Lisa, but it was over between Gerard and Tim, and it had been for awhile.

It was a messy blur, and with hardly any recollection of it, Gerard left the house with Tim screaming at him – he didn't pay attention to him, maybe he'd bust a fucking blood vessel and die, and Gerard didn't even feel bad for wishing that. He didn't appear to be bleeding internally when Gerard sped away – he glanced in his mirrors, back at the house. 

Before it was gone from view, he saw the silhouette of both of his parents in the doorway, it looked like Lisa had her purse with her, and the last thing Gerard saw was Lisa going towards her car.

Good.

*

One night of Gerard calling, crying, and saying he was coming over was one night too many. Two nights of that was unacceptable. But Frank found himself on the phone with Gerard again, listening to his voice and growing angrier by the second as he explained what happened – he didn't seem as upset this time, since he actually talked, but he was a far cry from happy.

Frank wanted to break something – preferably Tim's face. He wanted to scream and never let Gerard go, and he was set on doing the latter. When Frank felt things, it was all or nothing, and sometimes that could be bad.

The people who worked in the apartment building were used to the red head who transported random stuff through the lobby – they'd seen him with a guy who lived there a couple times, so he was probably taking the stuff up there. Seeing him carry a rolled up quilt under his arm was probably the most unusual thing they'd seen yet, but whatever – what was weird was seeing how he rushed through the lobby, obviously upset.

They brushed it off as a kid who was staying with a friend – and it wasn't an entirely wrong assumption.

The walk from the elevator to Frank's door was muscle memory by now. He knocked, and Frank opened the door. He was relieved to see that Gerard wasn't sobbing this time, but he had clearly been crying.

Gerard stepped in, and Frank closed the door. He rested his hands on Gerard's arms, keeping him still and facing Frank so he could see his face, make sure he was alright, before sliding his hands up and around him, pulling him into a hug.

Gerard dropped his stuff to squeeze Frank back – burying his face in his neck and trying to tune out everything and forget what happened no more than twenty minutes ago.

"Promise you won't go back." Frank said, his voice muffled by pressing into Gerard.

"I promise." Gerard replied.


	36. Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

Gerard hadn't gone into detail over the phone, he thought it best to first call Lisa, give Mikey the rundown, and then talk to Frank seeing as how they had all night, and then all day the next day, and then all night the next night – and even though it probably wasn't appropriate in the given circumstance, Gerard felt pretty happy now that the initial shock of the previous events were coming to an end.

Actually, it was relieving. And there wasn't a reason Gerard could think of to be worried. It didn't matter what he said back there, because that chapter in his life was done, he was free from them. Now, none of his worries had anything to do with his parents and his life at home. The most he was worried about was Lisa, and Gerard knew she would be okay somehow.

"I need to call my mom." Gerard said, pulling away and picking up his stuff, Frank helped. "After I left, I looked back and saw her leaving, too. I don't know where she went or when she's going back – if she's going back."

"Do you even want her to?" Frank asked.

Gerard thought it over. "No."

"Here," Frank said, holding out his hand for the other half of the things Gerard had, "I'll go put this stuff where it belongs, you go call your mom."

Gerard handed it to him and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, hon."

"Mmhmm." Frank hummed in reply, and started toward the bedroom.

While Frank busied himself with that, Gerard sat at the table and called Lisa with his head in his hand. It took longer than usual for her to pick up, but Gerard told himself not to worry.

"Gerard?" Lisa answered.

"Mom." Gerard stated.

"Where are you?" She asked before Gerard could say anything else.

"I'm with Frank." He replied. "What about you? Where did you go?"

Frank could hear what Gerard was saying – not that he was intentionally listening, it was just easy to hear from the other room while he put Gerard's stuff where it belonged – or at least, where he guessed it should go. The toiletries should be in the bathroom, the art supplies didn't have a designated location yet, so for now they'd put them in and on the dresser. And then there was that really big quilt – Frank chuckled at the Star Wars design on it, or more-so chuckled at the fact that his boyfriend was such a nerd and it was fucking awesome.

As Frank spread it on top of the bed, which he now had the pleasure of calling 'their' bed, he overheard more of Gerard's conversation. It sounded positive, Gerard's tone and words sounded relieved. After he was done, he made his way back into the living room. Gerard glanced back at him, and smiled softly at him.

Since Frank had been dating Gerard, he'd had several moments like that – weird little moments where everything was in slow motion for a tender split second and he had a sense of 'yeah, this is the way it's supposed to be, and that's my other half I'm looking at', and for that little second, no matter what was going on around him, it felt like everything would be alright.

And it made Frank feel like he never had to question whether or not Gerard was the one for him, because he knew. He just knew somehow.

"Okay, Mom." Gerard said, "Okay – goodnight."

Gerard sighed after hanging up, and glanced back over at Frank, pulling out a chair to sit beside him.

"So?" Frank asked.

"She's driving to a friend's house." He replied, "And as soon as she can, she's filing for divorce."

"Is that good or bad?" 

"That's fucking fantastic." Gerard smiled, "She doesn't deserve to be trapped there."

Frank held out his hand for Gerard to hold, squeezing it softly upon receiving it.

"It's really been a crazy couple of weeks, y'know." Gerard said.

"Yeah," Frank began, "I just hope things settle down soon. Go back to the mundane routine of getting up and going to work, running errands, coming home, kissing my wife goodnight." Frank trailed off, and Gerard broke into a smile.

"Am I supposed to be your wife?" He giggled.

Frank nodded, "My beautiful wife who I love with all my heart."

Gerard brought Frank's hand up his lips and kissed his knuckles. "I love you, too." 

Silence fell between them – a comfortable and relaxed silence, and the whole apartment was still for a moment while the outside world moved in fast motion just on the other side of the window. Gerard never wanted to let go of Frank's hand, he never wanted to move or leave this perfect setting and they didn't even have to speak, the silence spoke enough for them, but Gerard broke the silence anyway.

"You think we'll ever be married?" He asked softly.

"At this rate?" Frank said, "I think so. I mean, if you ever wanna be."

Gerard shrugged, "That's not a decision someone makes at eighteen, or like, it shouldn't be. But honestly? Yeah, I'd love to marry you, and I really can't see that changing anytime soon. What about you?"

"I feel the same way." Frank replied, "What do you say we just elope and run away together and travel the world?

"Name the time and place." Gerard smiled.

"Tomorrow?" Frank raised an eyebrow.

"Sure – but we've gotta be back by two." Gerard replied.

Frank smiled. "Sounds like a plan."

"But seriously though," Gerard began, "Six months ago you didn't even know I existed and now we're talking about getting married – albeit not talking very seriously, but it's kinda the thought that counts, y'know?"

Frank sighed. "I get what you're saying, okay – and I agree that if you take a step back it looks a little rushed, but it really doesn't feel rushed at all. I don't know what I did all day before I met you, I don't remember what occupied my thoughts – so yeah, I know this is moving fast, but for me, nothing has felt more normal than what we have." He paused, "If you wanna slow things down, that's okay. If you're not happy with the way things are going, tell me, it's okay – I never want you to be uncomfortable."

"No, is that what you thought I meant?" Gerard said, sounding surprised, "No, I just – I didn't mean that at all, Frank. I've never been happier, just ask anyone. It's just weird for a couple to fall like this, in every sense of the word, but at this point, I think slowing things down would be a mistake." 

Gerard paused, trying to find the right words. "Maybe what we're doing is the mistake. I don't know, okay? Your guess is as good as mine. But one thing I know for sure is that I've never loved anyone the way I love you, and no one has ever made me feel the way you do. I know that's like the cheesiest thing I could've said, but I don't know what else to say. I fucking love you more than anyone."

Frank didn't know what to say, and he could feel himself blushing.

"You're so adorable." Gerard smiled.

"Y'know, I think I finally understand what guys mean when they say their partner makes them a better man." Frank began quietly. "I wanna be your everything – just the best person I can be for you. I wanna make you happy every second of the day."

"You're doing a pretty good job of that." Gerard replied, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Frank asked.

"You'll see." Gerard smirked, tugging Frank's hand, "Cause you're coming with me."

Frank stood up, and followed Gerard into the bedroom. Gerard started laughing upon walking through the door.

"What?" Frank asked.

"Nothing – I wasn't expecting to see my quilt there is all." Gerard giggled.

"Should I have put it somewhere else?" Frank asked, wrapping his arms around Gerard and resting his chin on his shoulder.

"I don't know, but it's gotta go for now," Gerard began, "Cause I am not about to have sex on top of it."

"Oh." Frank said, genuinely surprised and getting butterflies. "So that's why I'm in here."

"Yeah." Gerard smiled, "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

Frank laughed and pulled away from Gerard, kissing him on the cheek – they respectfully rolled the quilt up and left it at the bottom of the bed. Gerard began stripping, starting with his shirt, and Frank went over to help – he placed his hands on Gerard's waist, squeezing the skin as he kissed him. 

Maybe Frank was just imagining it, but Gerard's flesh felt just a little squishier lately around his stomach – Frank wasn't complaining, he liked it, a lot.

They broke away just long enough for Gerard to take Frank's shirt off – Gerard hooked his fingers through the belt loops on Frank's pants and pulled him closer, and moved his hands to his belt, unfastening it and removing it, and then removing his own.

Frank kissed sloppily down Gerard's jawline and neck, and then down to his collarbone – biting gently and sucking at the skin while Gerard tipped his head back, enjoying it and sinking into the hot feeling of his mouth.

He pulled off to take off his pants and shoes, Gerard did the same and followed Frank down onto the bed, straddling him – running the palms of his hands up and down his chest. Gerard grinded against Frank, feeling him get hard. Frank scooted up to get out from underneath Gerard so he could yank his own boxers down. Gerard sat up on his knees, a hand on top of Frank's head while he slid down Gerard's boxers, slowly and teasingly. He leaned forward and kissed Gerard's lower stomach, before moving down to his dick and sucking on the tip. He heard Gerard sighing with pleasure, and felt pressure from his hand, signaling for him to sit back. 

Frank complied – he reached over for the lube while Gerard tossed his boxers to the floor. 

"Here," Gerard held out his hand for the lube, Frank gave it to him and sat with his back against the headboard. Gerard squirted some out onto his hand and leaned forward, propping up with his arm and stroking Frank's dick, lubing him up. 

Since they'd been having sex every other night with Frank topping each time, Gerard didn't need that much prep – he sat back on his knees to squirt more lube onto his fingers, and set the bottle aside. He arched his back, giving Frank a show and the pleasure of watching him finger himself – probably longer than necessary, but it was easy for Frank to get distracted watching.

Frank saw Gerard gasp subtly and his thighs tense briefly.

"You're just masturbating now." Frank laughed.

Gerard giggled and stopped what he was doing – because Frank was right, even though it mostly for his viewing pleasure. He moved forward, hovering over Frank – and reached behind himself for Frank's dick, guiding it in as Gerard sat down. 

Frank closed his eyes and placed his hands on Gerard's hips – god, the hot pressure was amazing, he felt Gerard moving, not a lot and slow at first. Then he sped up, Frank opened his eyes, watching Gerard bouncing and fucking himself, his dick bobbing between his legs.

It was a sight that Frank couldn't resist and it drove him crazy every time Gerard did that – which was almost every time. He'd do that until he came, or until he made Frank come – then they'd switch and get the other off. But tonight, they managed to orgasm at the same time. In no time, Gerard was moaning obscenities and sweating, and in turn getting Frank worked up – he felt his orgasm building, and waited until it was almost there – he tipped his head back and jacked Gerard off.

He heard Gerard's long, drawn out moan and felt sticky come on his stomach at the same time he tensed up, and pleasure surged through him, coming in Gerard.

Gerard's thighs felt shaky as got off of Frank, and lowered himself down beside him, panting. After Frank came down from the high, he scooted down even with Gerard, and kissed him.

"Love you." Gerard smiled, and kissed Frank back before pressing his face into the crook of his neck. His breaths gave Frank chills, despite being hot and sweaty.

"Love you too, babe." Frank replied, wrapping his arms around Gerard. He felt Gerard press another wet kiss to his neck.

They laid like that for awhile, Frank cooled off and even though it was still kind of early – by no means late, he accidentally began drifting off before long. Everything was warm and relaxed, he had Gerard in his arms with no intent of letting go. He didn't have to this time. Gerard never had to go back to his parents, he never had to deal with Tim's abuse again, and that was a thought that brought Frank peace.

"Frank?" Gerard said – Frank barely heard him from the edge of sleep, and he came to upon Gerard repeating his name. "Frank? You asleep?"

"Almost." He said quietly, fluttering his eyes open – Gerard was almost nose to nose with him now. "But I'm awake now." He added, "What's up?"

"I was thinking about earlier." Gerard replied, matching Frank's quiet tone.

"Which part?" 

"When we were talking about marriage." Gerard replied.

Frank felt his heart leap – he didn't know why it did that.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm." Gerard began, "I know it's probably a bad idea to be thinking about it so soon, but I really think I wanna marry you."

"If it's bad idea, why are you thinking about it?" Frank asked, even though he'd definitely given the idea thought before tonight. Just 'what if' fantasies, nothing serious.

"My whole life is one, big, bad idea." Gerard replied, "Except you. There's nothing bad about you, that's why I wanna marry you."

"Okay," Frank said – he was tired, though waking up more and more every second. He knew Gerard well enough to know that this was going to be something he wouldn't let go until something was set in stone and some kind of plan was made, marriage or not. He would be like a child bringing it up every time he got the chance. Although Frank didn't mind that characteristic about him, marriage was a serious topic. And if that's what Gerard really wanted, then it needed to be discussed and taken seriously. So what better time than now?

"You wanna have this discussion now?" Frank asked.

"Yeah, if that's alright." Gerard said.

"Of course it's alright." Frank smiled reassuringly, "Let's talk about it."


	37. Aches and Pains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

They talked it over, finding themselves getting side-tracked once in awhile but always managing to get back on topic.

Ultimately, they knew getting married any time soon wouldn't be the best idea, despite both wanting to and not being able to come up with legitimate problems. So they came to the conclusion to not stress over it for now, just enjoy being in each other's presence for a little while, and down the road, start thinking about it again. Gerard didn't say it, but he figured he would never outright quit thinking about it – and no matter what Frank intended, neither would he.

It was the early morning hours when they finally concluded the conversation, and both of them were worn out.

"We should really go to sleep." Frank suggested, rubbing an eye with his palm. "Especially you – cause you've got a performance tomorrow."

Gerard smiled – being able to look forward to that would never get old. He would be forty something and just be giddy and excited for a performance. It was unreal to know that it was finally happening, too – that his life had really started, and all those hundreds upon hundreds of hours were paying off. They weren't for nothing, and they were helping his life to happen in a better way than he could've hoped. Gerard got to do what he wanted more than anything every other night, with no intentions of slowing down.

"Yeah." He replied, rolling over and pressing his back against Frank's chest – Frank wrapped his arms around him.

Frank was proud of Gerard and proud for him, as well. As much as Frank enjoyed his job as a film maker, at the end of the day, it was just that simple. He enjoyed it. It wouldn't rip him apart to not be able to work in the industry, it wasn't something that he relied on or felt like his life depended on – he knew there were plenty of ways to make a living and enjoy doing them. He had two top options, film or music – and he chose film.

Film wasn't his life and primary source of happiness – which, yeah, it brought him plenty of happiness, but his soul wouldn't be crushed without it, unlike Gerard with dancing. Frank was well aware of that, so when Gerard first began to complain of back pains, it just barely worried Frank. When the complaints got worse and more frequent, Frank worried a lot.

Gerard refused to go to a chiropractor, Frank couldn't and wouldn't force him to do anything against his will. After awhile, Gerard dropped the subject altogether, but Frank still noticed him wincing or holding his back, so he knew it still hurt. He didn't know how bad though, or how frequently.

"I'm gonna ask you something. Don't get upset, okay?" Frank said with his forehead against the nape of Gerard's neck.

"Okay." 

"Is your back still hurting?" Frank asked.

Gerard didn't reply right away – and he didn't have to. Frank already knew the answer was yes.

"It's nothing bad." Gerard replied.

"But it's something, and that's bad enough." Frank added, keeping his voice calm even though this was something that concerned him.

"It's not affecting anything, though." Gerard said, "And if it ever does, which it won't, I'll see a doctor or something."

Frank sighed, Gerard continued before he could say anything.

"Why did you even bring that up?" Gerard asked curiously.

"I don't know," Frank replied, "I was just thinking about you performing, I guess – about how much you love it, and I want you to keep being able to love it."

Gerard turned onto his back to look up at Frank with a concerned expression.

"You're not worried it could be serious? Or like, become serious?" Frank continued.

"I don't think about it." Gerard replied. He didn't like it, and he knew it wasn't so, but it felt like he was being scolded. It was probably thanks to years of everything he said being turned around on him – Frank wasn't like that, though. And sometimes, Gerard needed to be reminded of that, just to be sure.

"You need to." Frank said, "What if it's bad?" 

"It's not." Gerard replied, "Are you mad at me?"

"No," Frank said, bringing his hand up to stroke Gerard's hair out of his face, "Of course not. But I'm worried."

"Please don't be." Gerard said quietly.

"Will you tell me if it gets worse?" Frank asked.

Gerard nodded in reply.

"Okay." Frank said softly.

"You're really not upset?" Gerard asked.

"I'm really not." Frank reassured. "It's alright." He gave him a small smile, just to confirm it really was alright, and Gerard returned the smile.

*

The following day, Frank had a class to teach. And tomorrow, a premiere to go to, but he had to keep his mind present with his body at the studio for now. Since Mrs. Kovlov's stroke, Frank made sure to drop by her office each time he was there, make sure she was doing okay, ask if she needed anything, stuff like that. To his delight, she always said she was fine, but he could never be fully satisfied with her answers.

She was different after the stroke, and that bothered Frank but he kept it to himself. Something was just off about her. Maybe that was normal. Today, he noticed a bottle of ibuprofen on her desk, which was uncommon since before the stroke when she had frequent head aches leading up to it.

When Frank pointed it out, she said it was just a head ache and nothing more. He'd been down that road before with her, and he wasn't about to let it slide.

"You need to see a doctor to make sure." He suggested – and it felt like deja vu with his conversation the night before with Gerard.

She rubbed a hand over her eyes. "I am fine, dear. It's a head ache, you get head aches, yes?"

"Yeah, but I'm not the one recovering from a stroke." Frank countered, unintentionally raising his voice a little.

"Frank." Mrs. Kovlov said sternly. "You do not need to worry about me. I'm not going anywhere, it is just a head ache and that is all it is."

Frank grinded his teeth. He knew he should stop talking and trust Mrs. Kovlov, but the words came out before he could filter himself. "That's what you said last time."

Mrs. Kovlov didn't say anything, she just looked at him grimly.

Frank continued, his tone rising and falling, "I don't have a mom or dad, I don't even know if they're still alive – I lost my aunt. You're the only parent I have left anymore. You're like my mom, and you know that. Don't make me have to say goodbye to you, too. Mrs. Kovlov, please."

Mrs. Kovlov sighed. She picked up the bottle of pills, and threw it against the wall – it bounced off and hit the floor with a thud. Frank had no idea how to react, she had never been aggressive or had outbursts of anger before.

"I am fine." Mrs. Kovlov repeated. "You see? No more pills, because I am okay."

*

After the confrontation with Mrs. Kovlov, it was time to pick Gerard up from the theatre – their jobs timed out well like that. As it turned out, there was a lot to catch up on during the ride home. Gerard told Frank to go first.

"Well," He began, "I talked to Mrs. Kovlov – she's having head aches again and she's still acting off, or whatever. She said she's fine, but there's just..." He trailed off, shaking his head, "I don't know. I just have a bad feeling. Maybe I'm being paranoid."

"You have a right to be paranoid." Gerard said, "I would be, too."

Frank shrugged, he didn't like bringing in negativity when he knew Gerard was still pumped with adrenaline. 

"So, what happened with you today? He changed the subject.

"Okay, so not long after you dropped me off, my dad called. Twice." Gerard said, he didn't appear to be upset by that. "I didn't answer."

"Have you heard from Lisa?" Frank asked.

"No," Gerard replied, "But I figure he called her, too. He probably wants to know where we are and what's going on – but you know what? He doesn't even deserve a fucking explanation."

Frank glanced over when Gerard fell silent, he saw a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"And there's more." Gerard said.

"Yeah?"

"Uh huh." Gerard smiled, "I got offered another job."

Frank looked over to Gerard, who was absolutely beaming.

"Holy shit – Gerard, that's great!" Frank smiled, and for a moment, he forgot about the issue with Mrs. Kovlov.

"I know," Gerard said, almost giggling, "Man, I'm so happy. And you're about to start a new job and see the premiere of your last film, and my mom is divorcing my dad and Mikey's fucking engaged! God, things are okay and I'm happy for once. Things are really so much better than okay. The planets are fucking aligned, or something."

Frank reached over to hold Gerard's hand.

"It's fucking perfect." Gerard concluded.

"It is." Frank smiled. "That's how it's gonna stay."

They sat in comfortable silence for a little while, Gerard looked out the window at the setting sun – it looked different lately, in a good way. Like he was seeing it in a brand new light, and it was beautiful.

He snapped out of it when he felt Frank squeezing his hand, he glanced over at him.

"You wanna go out tonight?" Frank asked.

Gerard nodded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is short - the next chapter will be long.


	38. The Rise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So like I have a timeline of events written to refer to and when I was writing this chapter and looking at that timeline I realized the story is pretty much half way over, holy shit.  
> Also, you may have noticed there has been a few occasions of "that that" in this story. It's not a typo, I actually use "that that" whenever I see the chance. english is just stupid and it's hilarious that that is a thing.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

Coated in sweat and panting – Gerard tried breathing deeply to get his heart to slow down while Frank pulled out and laid down beside him, equally as wrecked as Gerard. That was something he would never get tired of, and although he felt far too heavy and spent to even move, he forced himself to anyway, and laid with his head on Frank's chest and draped a leg over his lower half.

He felt Frank kiss the top of his head, and all was right with the world.

While Gerard was drifting off to sleep, his mind wandered – things were just better since he met Frank, and no one had made him feel as good before, in every sense of the word. He was more confident around Frank instead of being self conscious, like he usually was and just used attitude to make up for it. He wasn't ashamed about his weird, nerdy interests, the strange habits he had, or ashamed by the way he looked. Frank loved all those things about him.

So far they'd been living together for a day, and in that time there hadn't been much of a chance to adjust to the altered way of living. They went to sleep, woke up, went to work, spent the evening together, and now they were going to sleep again. There's wasn't a chance yet for it to fully sink in. Gerard didn't consider the fact that he'd have to get used to a new environment and living with someone other than his family. Frank had, though.

It probably wouldn't be that big of an adjustment, Frank thought. Considering they were used to having plenty of time to themselves, with Frank alone in his apartment and Gerard alone in his room, Frank figured that that would be the biggest change, and maybe it would prove to be aggravating at times. Frank knew Gerard pretty well, but he'd only ever known him in limited spans of time – and the same thing went for Gerard about Frank, as well. Frank's apartment was the perfect size – for one person, and the closest thing either of them would get to being 'alone' was being in opposite sides of the apartment, where they'd still be within earshot.

Frank could feel Gerard's body relaxing in his arms, and his breaths became peaceful. Frank joined him in sleep soon after.

*

Gerard was the first to wake up in the morning, which gave him a chance to lay beside Frank for awhile and watch him sleep – which, wasn't creepy. It was almost tranquilizing watching the gentle pattern of his chest rising and falling and hearing his breath. He looked calm, serene, and no doubt the most beautiful person Gerard had ever seen in his life. Gerard liked how delicate and pink Frank's lips looked, and even asleep, the corners just barely turned up enough to make him look like he had the faintest smile.

After a few minutes, Gerard pried himself up and out of bed to go take a shower, get dressed, and stretch afterwards. Frank was still asleep, and Gerard didn't wanna wake him up – so, he searched in the dresser for a notebook and pen as quietly as he could, and settled back down beside Frank with his back against the headboard.

It had been awhile since Gerard had drawn – he didn't have the time, for one. And he just wasn't motivated to do it lately. Once he'd sketched for a minute, he realized how much he actually missed it, and how easy it was to get caught up and lost in it, and just lose track of time.

It didn't seem like it had been that long, but Gerard had filled up two pages when he noticed Frank moving. He shifted so that he faced Gerard and paused there for a second, eyes still closed – Gerard stopped drawing and watched Frank lazily sit up. He leaned against Gerard with his head propped on his shoulder, and Gerard instinctively put his arm around him.

"Morning." Gerard smiled.

Frank briefly turned his head so he could kiss Gerard's shoulder.

"Good morning." Frank replied, his voice raspy as usual upon waking up.

"Feel okay?" Gerard asked.

Frank nodded, and rested his chin on Gerard's shoulder so he was able look up at him.

"Just tired." He replied, his eyes fell to Gerard's notebook. "That looks really good, I didn't know you could draw."

"No shit, really?" Gerard said – that was a fairly universal thing known about him, it ranked just below dancing, and yet somehow Frank never knew that?

"Really." Frank replied, waking up quickly.

"I mean, it's kinda been awhile since I've drawn, but I thought everyone knew that." Gerard said.

"Man, I didn't know you could sing, didn't know you could draw – what other talents do you have?" Frank playfully squinted his eyes at Gerard.

Gerard just shook his head, "I'm not talented at singing and you know it."

"I beg to differ." Frank defended.

"Truce." 

"Nope." Frank replied, and kissed Gerard's cheek before getting out of bed in quick, fluid motion, heading for his closet.

Gerard cracked a smile, and set his notebook and pencil aside to reach for Frank's pillow – he tossed his pillow in Frank's generally direction while his back was turned. 

"Fucker." Gerard said.

It barely brushed his back. Frank turned around with a half confused, half smiling look on his face, and bent over to pick up his pillow – he was ready to play whatever game this was becoming. He flipped Gerard off before tossing it back at him, intentionally aiming at him.

Gerard attempted to dodge it, and failed – in the short amount of time while he reacted and tried to figure out what to do next, Frank grabbed a pair of boxers and had them half way on when two pillows awkwardly landed on either side of him.

"I guess aiming isn't one of your talents, huh?" Frank said, now somewhat clothed.

"Fuck you." Gerard giggled, as Frank picked up the pillows.

Gerard sunk down into the bed, still giggling as Frank approached him.

"Now you're in trouble." Frank kidded, and got back into bed to straddle Gerard's waist, he tossed the pillows aside and bent forward over his boyfriend.

He blew a long, wet raspberry into the crook of Gerard's neck, causing him to squirm and recoil, and laugh in the loud, nerdy, infectious way that Frank adored. Frank kissed his jawline, then his cheek, and Gerard met his mouth. Frank could feel Gerard losing it and beginning to smile again, so Frank nuzzled at his jawline until Gerard regained composure enough to kiss Frank's lips again.

"Fuck you." Gerard repeated in between kisses.

"I love you." Frank said softly.

"I love you, too." Gerard replied.

And of course, that only led to making out – Gerard had chills, every moment being embraced in love and happiness felt like a breath of fresh air.

*

They spent the rest of the day similarly, cheerful and fluffy – even while they were getting ready for the premiere. It was different for both of them when it came to sharing the bathroom. Frank kindly asked Gerard to step out into the bedroom before he unloaded an entire can of hairspray onto his hair for the sake of Frank's lungs, to which Gerard responded with:

"But there's no mirror out there."

And Frank proved to be just as stubborn – so they both stayed and Frank dealt with it. He could see a thin film of hairspray settling over everything. That, and Gerard decided to wear makeup. His makeup skills were indeed impressive, but he was extremely messy, and the countertop of their sink may never make a full recovery. But Frank kept his mouth closed about it for the time being. 

On the other hand, Gerard learned that Frank hogged the mirror. Not that Gerard blamed him, he thought that if he was that hot he'd probably hog the mirror, too. Also, to keep his hair neatly short on the sides, he would trim it – and usually miss the garbage can. And he said Gerard had bad aim – yikes. Gerard poked fun at him, of course, but never in a mean or hurtful way.

"Can't wait for you to see what I'm gonna wear." Gerard muttered while he was lost in concentration, making his mascara thick and being sure to keep it even. Frank was just stalling at this point, and enjoying watching Gerard primp. "What are you wearing?"

"A suit." Frank replied.

"What color tie?" Gerard asked, fanning his eyelashes so they'd dry faster.

Frank shrugged. "Maybe black. Or red, I like red." He leaned against the sink. "What do you think?"

"Definitely red." Gerard replied. He pointed to his hair, "We'll match."

Frank chuckled, Gerard put the mascara away and mimicked his posture of leaning, looking at him closely. Frank didn't know what he was looking at, he didn't really care, he was too interested in studying Gerard. His features were soft and strong in the perfect places. If he didn't already look feminine, he definitely did now. If Frank were to just see Gerard on the street with a full face of makeup like that, he'd assume he was a lady – not that Frank should be assuming genders at all.

"I think eyeliner would look good on you." Gerard said, taking Frank out of his thoughts.

Frank raised an eyebrow, "You do, now?"

Gerard nodded.

"Are you implying something?" Frank asked.

Gerard smiled, and Frank knew he was going to cave the second Gerard brought it up.

"Can I?" He asked.

"Sure." Frank approved.

Gerard kissed his cheek lightly, and started digging through his bag of makeup. "I won't poke your eye out. Promise."

"I wasn't even worried about that 'til now." Frank said.

Having retrieved the eyeliner pencil, Gerard cornered Frank into the countertop, and placed one hand under his chin to delicately lift his head up. 

"Look up." Gerard said, "And be still."

Because having his eyes poked out wasn't really his cup of tea, Frank obeyed, and he certainly wasn't prepared for what came next. 

"Ow – you fucking poked my eye out."

"I did not, oh my God." Gerard said.

"It's bleeding!" Frank kidded.

"It's watering!" Gerard laughed. "Come on, look up."

Again, Frank obeyed, and decided to be serious this time. Gerard invading his personal space was nice, but the act of having eyeliner put on him really was uncomfortable, and he found himself accidentally blinking and hardly able to keep his eyes open.

"You gotta hold still, hon." Gerard reminded.

The worst part eventually ended – Gerard set the pencil aside and finished with smudging the harsh lines with his thumb.

Gerard backed away to admire what he'd done, "There, I'm all finished, and you still have both of your eyes."

Frank blinked hard – you know how your nose is always in your vision but your eyes just don't register it? Well, thick black eyeliner is similar to that. At first, Frank could notice a dark ring at the bottom of his vision, but his eyes just began to tune it out.

"Does it look okay?" Frank asked.

"Find out." Gerard nodded to the mirror behind him.

Frank turned to see himself, no dramatic slow motion build up or anything – he just went for it. At first glance, it looked excessive, but he turned his head to one side, and then the other, seeing it from different angles – and leaned forward to look at it up close, and it didn't look so bad. Definitely different – but not bad.

"I like it." Frank said, "Makes me look like a punk."

Gerard chuckled behind him, and turned to exit the bathroom – Frank followed.

The clothes that wouldn't fit in the closet were put in the dresser. They compromised, and kept clothes that they typically wore often in the closet, with Gerard's things on the right and Frank's on the left, meanwhile the clothes that got less usage were in the dresser. It was in Frank's subconscious that they definitely needed more storage space in the future – things were okay now, just a little cramped, but more space would be convenient.

Needless to say, they both raided the dresser. When Gerard was still moving in, Frank didn't always see exactly what he brought each time, he didn't know what kinds of clothes Gerard had, but he was aware of a few particularly feminine things, and he had a hunch that that was what Gerard would be going for.

Frank was not wrong, and Gerard was stunning – a heart attack in all black, he thought. A black dress, specifically, and short, even more specifically, paired with a loose fitting blazer with rolled up sleeves, which somehow looked fashionable.

"You're staring." Gerard stated, "Is that good or bad?"

"Good – definitely good. Wow." Frank replied. "You really look amazing."

"Look who's talking." Gerard replied.

Frank didn't say anything back – all he was going to do was deny his looks, and Gerard would argue, and they'd go on like that for ages until it ended with making out – just like all of their not-actual-arguments did. So, Frank just skipped to the good part.

"C'mere." He said, and Gerard stepped closer to him, and wrapped his arms around him.

"You're gorgeous." Frank said, his word muffled into his neck, "You always are."

Frank caught a glimpse of one of his favorite sights before closing his eyes and pressing his lips to Gerard's – and that was seeing Gerard happy.

*

It wasn't a glamorously spectacular red carpet event – it was the cast and crew and their dates showing up looking fancy to the movie theatre that Brian Molko had rented for the night, which was pretty fucking awesome, actually, and unlike anything Frank had done before. 

The cast and crew hung around in the auditorium, catching up while everyone arrived. Gerard stayed beside Frank the whole time, he didn't speak much, instead he mostly just listened to Frank talking to other crew members – he hung back due to anxiety. Frank understood that, he didn't force any communication and didn't try to put Gerard on the spot other than introducing him – and of course bragging on him every chance he got, because how could he not do that? He was proud for him.

It was clear that Frank was a little antsy by the way he talked – maybe that was what anxiety did to him, maybe he was just excited, probably both.

Ray was there – he spotted Frank and came over immediately to say hello to him and Gerard. They stuck together for the rest of the time, and it wasn't much longer until everyone was present and accounted for, so they could move into the theatre.

It was alive with excited whispers – and before the film began, Brian gave a short speech. Gerard was honestly surprised at his accent, but it was charming.

Gerard could tell Frank was excited. It was cute – he bounced his leg and kept shooting glances over to Gerard, and his eyes were practically glowing with anticipation. It made him look like an innocent child – even more-so when the film actually began and he sat back in his seat, and brought a hand up to his mouth to nervously bite at his nails.

Instead of allowing Frank to do that, Gerard held his hand in his lap – it was cold, and that was rare for Frank which further proved his nerves. Gerard kissed Frank on the cheek lovingly, nonverbally telling him to relax. It worked a little, and after the opening credits passed and the film began, focusing on it helped some more.

Frank kept leaning in and telling Gerard about scenes and the antics that happened on set during certain shots, or what they went through and had to do. Gerard loved every second of it, even if it made it harder to focus on the plot.

It was a very well done film, Gerard was impressed. The imagery was beautiful, and Gerard didn't know much about acting, but that appeared to be nice, as well. Actually, he didn't know much about anything to do with film, but the whole thing looked good in his opinion. And he didn't really understand the significance when Frank pointed out what scenes used a regular boom mic, as opposed to a shot mic or lavalier, and he had no idea what the hell a dead cat was in film terms, but apparently it was frequently used.

All in all, it was a pretty sweet night that Frank and Gerard would always remember.

They wanted to make it last – plenty of pictures were taken all night, and they had gotten there early and were some of the last to leave. They were faced with the option of going out to a few clubs with some of the crew, which was a tempting offer, but they turned it down.

Instead, they were going home.

*

They had a celebratory party of their own in a state of sleepiness, having arrived home at midnight.

"Just like Cinderella coming home from the ball." Gerard smiled, trailing behind Frank into the kitchen.

"Which one of us is Cinderella?" Frank asked, reaching up to open a cabinet.

Gerard sat up on the counter top across from him. "Good question." He kicked at Frank to get his attention. "Frank?"

"Yeah, babe?" Frank turned to face him, a bottle of booze in his hand.

"Did you have a good night?" Gerard asked.

Frank stepped forward and put his arms around Gerard's waist, pulling him closer and looking up at him. "Do you even have to ask?" 

Gerard adored the sleepiness-induced softness in his voice, and the heaviness of his eyelids. He cupped Frank's jaw in his hand and leaned down to kiss his forehead sweetly. The lightness of his touch was causing Frank to absolutely melt.

"I'm proud of you." Gerard whispered.

Frank inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink further into Gerard's touch, into the moment and hold on to it, because it was the only moment like this they'd ever have. Sure, there would be plenty similar, but never this exact one, and this one was special.

"Thank you." Frank said in the same tone.

Gerard pulled back and found the bottle of booze behind him – Frank squeezed Gerard's thighs before moving to get cups while Gerard opened the bottle. 

"You're not even old enough to drink." Frank said as he poured.

"Neither are you." Gerard said.

Frank just shrugged, and handed Gerard a cup. 

"To tonight." Frank said, "To us, and our future."

"Our love." Gerard added.

"And to our love." Frank said.

Gerard smiled, and in turn so did Frank as they clinked their cups together – and then it was bottoms up. After getting drunk to the point of demolishing the chances of remembering anything beyond that point in the morning, they found themselves slow dancing in the living room with no music – just the two of them moving together, pressed against each other and feeling each other's breath and heartbeat, aware that only the two of them were alive, and nothing else existed. Butterfly kisses and tender touches – slurred words that were just barely a whisper. No pain, no fear, no hate. It was just them in a slow rhythm, it was just drunken sleepiness and warmth, it was just love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not have written this entire chapter between the hours of 1 AM to 8 AM which may or may not have left me exhausted which may or may not have led me to cry at the end of this chapter.


	39. Tipped Balance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

Mid June meant the last run of shows for Gerard, and it also meant Mikey and Kristen were visiting. Over the past few days, Tim had tried calling again, but Gerard never picked up. Gerard did talk to Lisa though, she told him that Tim was calling her, as well. She explained that she answered the phone to him once, and he seemed to be throwing himself a pity-party and trying to guilt Lisa into coming back, but nothing was swaying her mind about the divorce.

Lisa also said that he asked about Gerard, and she told him she didn't know anything about his whereabouts.

As Frank suspected, living with Gerard took a little bit of getting used to. They weren't together constantly. Most days were fairly routine, see each other in the morning, maybe the afternoon if their schedules didn't conflict, and come home to each other at night – neither could complain, it was pretty damn ideal, actually. There comes a time in every serious relationship – friends, dating, or anything else, where people just stop trying to look cute all the time, and Frank honestly loved that they had gotten to that point.

Seeing Gerard as a total mess in the morning was great, and weirdly, Frank liked seeing his clumsiness and awkwardness throughout the day – maybe it was because it meant Gerard really trusted him and didn't feel like he ever had to pretend, not that Frank doubted he did that very much before, but it was sort of the last nail in the coffin, to put it extremely morbidly. Okay, that was too morbid for this casual narration. Sorry.

Frank liked that Gerard was the first thing he saw in the morning and the last thing he saw at night – he never wanted to take that for granted, and everyday, he'd try to take a take a second or two to just enjoy it, appreciate all the little details of Gerard – and there was one thing Frank noticed before, but they were too busy about to fuck for Frank to really give it much more thought. Gerard was definitely a little chubbier. It was hardly noticeable, even for Frank. He wouldn't have even seen it if he didn't look so closely at Gerard every day.

Frank loved it, though.

But not everything about living together was idyllic and dreamlike. It just took some getting used to, is all. It was just little pet peeves that the other had, nothing major – Frank would take a step back and think to himself, yeah, some things are a little annoying right now, but in five weeks it's not gonna fucking matter and regardless of what it is, it's just something they have to learn to deal with, and if they were as serious as they thought, that wouldn't be a problem.

It bothered Gerard more than Frank, because unlike Frank, Gerard wasn't expecting it to be much of a change – some days he felt like was doing something wrong or just couldn't get the hang of things because it wasn't perfect all the time. Sometimes he woke up confused as to why he wasn't in his house, and occasionally he even missed his tiny, dark space all to himself, but that was all his missed. And sometimes, it felt slightly jarring to repeatedly come to the realization that he would never be back in that house, he'd never see his old room again, and maybe, just maybe, never see his own father's face again.

But Gerard was fairly happy with the latter.

It was just knowing there was no going back now, and the change was so sudden.

Another thing that wasn't quite perturbing but just generally weird was Gerard's freedom. It was one of those things where you're pretty sure you know what someone said to you but you ask them to repeat it for clarification because you need to hear it again, just in case it really was too good to be true. Then there was the apprehension and hesitation he felt. Gerard could go anywhere he wanted any time he wanted, something he'd never been able to do before, and knowing he had that ability now felt great, but that was the problem. It was too great, and not normal.

He felt like he was supposed to have Frank's permission before going anywhere since there was a sudden absence of a parental figure, Gerard didn't have time to slowly adjust to 'adulthood' thanks to over-protective parents – so that meant there was a part of Gerard that saw Frank as that figure. Gerard knew it, and he didn't like it, but it wasn't something he could change over night.

Frank assured him he could go wherever, whenever, and not even have to tell him he was going. Although, yes, it would be nice to know if Gerard was going to be gone, but he really didn't have to tell Frank anything. But of course he did regardless, and he tried to push the hesitation aside and take advantage of his newfound freedom, not that he had many places to go when he wasn't busy and when Frank wasn't working. Mostly he just hung out with Patrick.

Frank received a phone call soon, it was Lisa. She wanted to meet up with just Frank. They set a time and place, Frank told Gerard about it. He was concerned, how could he not be? Ironically, luckily, thankfully, or what have you – that day fell on a Saturday, the same Saturday that Mikey and Kristen were arriving in town for the weekend, so Gerard would have more to do than just worry while Frank was gone. Instead, he was going out with Mikey and Kristen.

It's not like Frank had ever made a good impression on Lisa. The first time they met face to face, he accidentally came out as gay in a most awkward manor, which Lisa didn't seem to be too happy with. The second time, he was getting Gerard home late, and Frank still blamed himself for the domino effect of bad things because of that. 

But the third time is the charm, right? Frank hoped so. Meeting up with his boyfriend's mother after a fight bad enough to split the family up didn't sound like a promising setting, but Frank was going in with high hopes.

He tried to dress nicely, but not so nice that it looked like he was trying too hard to be likeable, and by no means a slob – he even took out his piercings for the day since Lisa was the type of person who judges appearances as well as personalities.

It was conflicting for him – of course he wanted to make a good impression this time, but at the same time, he still held a grudge, even if Lisa was trying to change things. Frank hoped he wouldn't let that get the better of him and stick his foot in his mouth.

They met at a coffee shop in the morning. Frank was on time, but Lisa was apparently early – and yeah, that was intimidating. He noticed she sat prim and proper, and she looked tired but obviously made an effort to look put together. If Frank was only seeing her for the first time, he wouldn't have thought anything was up with her, he would've assumed she lived a fulfilling and high end life with a loving family. She came across as a pleasant person, maybe a little stiff and forced, but nothing like what was the reality.

Frank nodded as he sat down opposite of her, and smiled politely.

"Hello, Frank." Lisa greeted.

Lisa thought she was past the days where Gerard having a boyfriend bothered her. Not only that, but even farther past the days where she was irked by the fact that the boy was old enough to be considered a man, and the man used to be his teacher.

Thinking about Frank was one thing, but seeing him was different. At first, those thoughts were clouding her vision and that's all she could see, and she was back to square one.

"Hi, Mrs. Way." He replied, "Nice to see you."

"Lisa, please." She corrected, "And if only it were under different circumstances. How's Gerard?"

Frank could only wish his anxiety would take a day off, he became aware that he was absentmindedly bouncing his leg under the table, and stopped, forcing himself to keep up eye contact with Lisa so he wouldn't come off as rude.

"He's doing good." Frank replied, "I mean, you guys talk a lot, so..." He trailed off. Where was he even going with that sentence? You guys talk a lot so you should know how he's doing so stop stalling by asking and get to the reason why we're here?

"I know we do, but we also talked a lot for eighteen years and I didn't always know how he was doing then." Lisa replied. "I would assume he talks more openly with you, so he really is alright?"

Frank regretted saying that. Lisa hadn't snapped at him, but it was evident she'd caught on to his subtle nuance and he knew he shouldn't have said that. 

"He really is." Frank replied honestly, and trying to alter his tone, "He still gets upset sometimes, I don't think there's a specific reason why, though. He just went through some extreme ups and downs in a really short time span, y'know. But he's okay."

Lisa nodded, mostly to herself. She looked down, seemingly lost in thought and biting her lip – Frank had seen Gerard do that a lot, but he did it in his own way, the same movement yet somehow completely different.

"I certainly hope he's happier." Lisa added, a hint of something in her voice. Guilt, sorrow, regret? Frank couldn't tell, but it was something negative like that. He couldn't quite bring himself to feel bad for her though, not just yet.

"He is." Frank reassured.

Lisa smiled halfheartedly. "I heard he was offered another job."

Frank nodded, "Yeah. Man, he really loves dancing, doesn't he? I don't think I've ever seen someone love something so purely before."

"He always has." Lisa said, "And he's a natural, too. I don't know what he would do if he couldn't dance."

"And did you know he can sing?" Frank said, "I've never heard a voice like Gerard's before, it's beautiful."

"Is that so?" Lisa said, visibly surprised. "I had no idea."

Lisa listened closely while Frank went on – she looked him in the eyes, scrutinizing everything he did, because this was the man her son was in love with and she needed to know Frank loved him back. She needed to see that for herself and she had to be sure.

That was the main reason she asked Frank to meet her here today. There was also the fact that she needed to know more about him, and vice versa. They were practical strangers, and the only thing they had in common was the mutual love for Gerard.

"So," Frank said long after they'd moved to a different subject, "Just to be clear, you're divorcing Mr. Way?"

"Yes." Lisa confirmed, "I am talking to a lawyer. I just want this over with as quickly as possible."

Frank nodded.

"I'm sure you're aware of what's gone on," Lisa continued, "I'm sure you think I'm a terrible mother, Frank. And I can't bring myself to argue with that. I spent a long time in the dark, blind and deaf to what was going on, sometimes just because I didn't want to look. Tim is at fault here, but so am I, and I can never take that back. I've chased both of my sons away, Frank, and that is something I will never forgive myself for, but I never stopped loving them."

She paused and looked at Frank sternly. Frank could see this conversation took a turn to being serious, and he guessed she was getting to what she wanted him here for.

Lisa exhaled and continued, "I never stopped loving them because I am their mother, and that means you should be afraid of me if you dare treat Gerard wrong, because I can be a nightmare, Frank. I didn't like you for the longest time, and I thought I had overcome that until I saw you walk through those doors today, and it was like that night when you brought Gerard home late all over again, but sitting here talking to you has reopened my eyes. Don't you think for one second I would let Gerard continue to live with you if I couldn't see that you loved him."

Frank had no idea how to reply to that, he stayed quiet and hoped Lisa had more to say to him.

"But I do see that, and I trust you, Frank. I trust you. Do not betray that." Lisa's voice was low and grim as she continued, "There are things that cannot be made up for between me and Gerard, mostly due to me not protecting him like I should have. But I will never allow him to go through anything like that again, and there are things I can't do for him now but I know that you can. Take care of my son, Frank."

*

It wasn't until six P.M. when Gerard got home. He had no indication whatsoever as to how it went with Lisa that morning, and he was nervous knowing he was about to find out as he walked through the door.

"Frank?" Gerard said into the seemingly empty apartment, leaning against the door to close it, "Are you home?"

Gerard shrugged his jacket off as he walked into the living room, pointlessly glancing around – he laid his jacket on the back of the couch and started towards the bedroom. He had a bad feeling. Frank wasn't in the bedroom, but the bathroom door was closed, and Gerard heard the shower being turned off.

"Frank?" Gerard repeated, louder this time.

Although muffled, he heard Frank reply, "Just got out of the shower, be there in a sec!"

Gerard sat down on the bed, still unable to shake the feeling. He knew he was just letting emotions from earlier get to him and affect his mood – it was hardly anything, really. For the most part, his day was amazing, the thing on his mind was just a tiny little insignificant thing that should mean nothing to him.

Frank wasn't lying when he said it would only be a second – he exited the bathroom with a towel around his waist and his hair sticking to his face.

"You took out your piercings?" Gerard questioned, surprised.

Frank nodded, "So your mom wouldn't judge me as harshly." He kissed Gerard as he passed by him, heading to his closet. "I'm actually thinking about leaving them out, I look alright without them." Frank glanced over his shoulder and jokingly added, "Would you still love me if I did that?" 

Gerard smiled, Frank could tell he was tired just by the lack of energy he had. 

"Maybe." Gerard replied.

"So how was your day?" Frank asked, changing clothes.

"Mostly amazing." Gerard replied, and laid back, letting his legs hang off the bed. "But tell me about yours, first. What happened with my mom? I've been worrying about it all day, I feel like shit."

Frank scrunched his eyebrows together, and went over to lay on his stomach beside Gerard, now fully clad in pajamas.

"You okay?" He asked.

"Yeah," Gerard replied, "Just tell me what happened."

"Well," Frank began, inching closer to Gerard, "I learned that your mom is an absolutely terrifying force of nature that should not be fucked with."

Gerard gave him a confused look.

"But that's because she really loves you." Frank smiled. "All in all, it went well today. We're on good terms now. She was just being a good mother, y'know – making sure everything was alright."

"Did she think so?" Gerard asked.

"Yeah." Frank replied, "She said she trusted me."

"To do what?" Gerard asked.

Frank shrugged. "To take care of you."

Gerard rubbed his eyes and kept a hand over his face in frustration. "What am I, a fucking kid? She thinks you have to take care of me?"

"I don't think she meant it like that." Frank said, sitting up on his knees. He gently laid his hand on top of Gerard's, and lifted it away from his face. "But I mean, think about it. You're her son, y'know. She would always see you like that no matter how capable you are – she'll see you like that when you're fifty."

Frank leaned down to kiss Gerard's cheek. 

"Smile." Frank said, kissing him again. "Tell me what's wrong."

Gerard kissed him back to avoid smiling or saying anything, running his hands through Frank's still wet hair. Frank pulled back suddenly.

"Is it your back?" He asked.

"No." Gerard replied, moving his hands to Frank's shoulders and squeezing, signaling for him to move, "I'm gonna change clothes." 

Frank moved back and watched Gerard stand up, and walk over to the closet. Maybe Gerard was angry with him? It was unusual for him to act like this – distant and tired. He only ever did that if it had been a long day and something was on his mind, usually it was Tim or something of the sort.

"Did I do something?" Frank asked.

Gerard shook his head as he stripped off his shirt, "No, you're fine hon, I promise." 

"Well, I know something's up." Frank said, "And I'm just gonna keep asking until you tell me."

Gerard turned to face him, still shirtless. "It's stupid," He said, "You're gonna roll your eyes and tell me how fucking ridiculous I'm being."

"Okay, well let's test that theory." Frank said as he stood up and crossed over to Gerard and wrapped his arms around him. "Spill it."

"We ran into someone from Kovlov's studio tonight," Gerard began, "They ever so kindly pointed out that I'm gaining weight." It felt like a stab in the heart for Gerard when they said that to him, and retelling it to Frank just brought that feeling back.

Frank looked Gerard up and down – they weren't wrong. It wasn't super noticeable, but it also wasn't deniable.

"And why does that bother you?" Frank asked.

"Seriously?" 

"What?"

"Why does that bother me?" Gerard repeated, pulling away from Frank so he could put his shirt on, "Cause I'm a dancer, I can't be fat. Even if I fucking wasn't a dancer – fuck. My dad was right. He always said I wasn't skinny enough to look good on stage."

"Gerard," Frank said, maybe a little too loud, it startled both of them. "Are you listening to yourself?"

Gerard didn't reply, he just crossed his arms – not in anger.

"Fuck anything your dad said." Frank continued, "He's a lying fucking bitch, okay? You're perfect, Gerard – there's nothing wrong with the way you look. And if you're worried you're fat, I can promise that you're not. You don't even qualify as chubby, but who cares if you did?"

"I care." Gerard said quietly.

"Why?" Frank asked.

Gerard shrugged, "I won't be pretty."

Frank could see that this was something that was really bothering Gerard, and Frank didn't like that one bit.

"You'll always be pretty, babe." Frank said softly, "Don't worry, please?"

Gerard avoided eye contact. "No one's gonna hire an ugly dancer." 

"Hey," Frank said, "Don't say that. You're not ugly, and your weight will never determine that."

Gerard didn't reply.

"What do you say we turn in early?" Frank added, "You'll feel better tomorrow."

Gerard nodded, and followed Frank to the bed.

"I'm sorry." Gerard said, scooting under the covers

"What for?" Frank asked.

"I don't know." Gerard replied, "Still used to saying it, I guess."

Frank snuggled beside him and propped himself up on his elbow, he wasn't going to sleep until he was sure Gerard felt better.

"There's nothing wrong with you." Frank said, "You're a long way away from being fat. Even if you were, it'd be alright. Do you judge other peoples' worth or looks based on their weight?"

"No," Gerard replied, "Of course not. That's fucking shitty."

"Then why would you judge yourself that way?" Frank asked.

Gerard really didn't know what to say, because Frank had a point.

"Sorry." Gerard replied.

"Don't be sorry." Frank said, and smiled softly, "You've got nothing to be sorry about."

"I'm sorry," Gerard replied out of habit, and realized what he said after it was too late.

Frank just smiled, "It's okay."

Gerard cuddled closer to Frank. "I know you're right. It's just, I don't know – it's hard."

Frank nodded. "But it'll be okay. You've just gotta know that, it's not a big deal."

"I know." Gerard sighed, "I just can't help it."

Frank laid back and held Gerard tightly, resting his chin on top of his head.

"I'm glad things are alright between you and Mom." Gerard said, muffled against Frank's chest. Frank could tell by the sound of his voice he was getting drowsy.

"You never told me about your day." Frank said.

"Tomorrow." Gerard replied.

"I'm holding you to it." Frank said lightly, and kissed the top of his head. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Gerard replied, finally smiling, "Good night."

"Good night, babe." Frank said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the last chapter was The Rise, this one is Tipped Balance, the next one will be called The Fall, spoiler alert, no one falls. ;))))))


	40. The Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this chapter's title totally doesn't imply anything remotely bad

It was always nice to hear Frank's voice saying he loved him, and as Gerard fell asleep, that's what he tried to hang on to – and he tried to believe Frank when he said he wasn't fat, but it stuck with him anyway, and he fell asleep unhappy. He meant what he said to Frank – he was afraid no one would hire him if he gained weight, he was also afraid of the judgment, and he knew his self esteem would suffer.

In the morning, Gerard would feel better. He wouldn't be so tired and irritable and what the person said to him wouldn't matter as much – that's what Frank hoped. Not to mention, tomorrow was the day when Frank would finally meet Mikey.

Frank was definitely nervous. It wasn't so much a dreadful type of feeling as it was an anxious type – he'd anticipated it for awhile, now it was a reality that was about to happen and that was making him nervous. Frank knew Mikey and Gerard were close, that Mikey was a protective and responsible brother, and Frank knew he couldn't fuck any of this up. He tried to sweep his thoughts under the rug so he could get some sleep.

Prior to today, Frank put in a notice that he needed to take the day off – he didn't give a reason, but the reason was to go see Gerard's final performance with this ballet. The plan was for Gerard to get there early, like usual, then Frank would meet up with Mikey and Kristen.

It was daunting knowing he'd be meeting them without Gerard's company and it put added pressure on Frank to not embarrass himself or come off as an asshole. Frank didn't know what to expect from Mikey – all he knew about him was stories Gerard had told, and yeah, he seemed nice enough, but that was coming from his brother. Maybe he would be judgmental of Frank – it was improbable but not impossible. Personality wise, he just hoped Mikey would be like Gerard.

Sweet and unprejudiced. 

Maybe Mikey would have high expectations of Frank, which was something Frank worried about, and if that was the case, Mikey would be seriously disappointed in the reality of him – or so Frank believed.

Frank pulled into a parking space and took the key out of the ignition – so far, things were going according to plan. He had Mikey's phone number and they'd been casually communicating about times and places. Frank was to meet them in the lobby, he just had to keep his cool and not overthink it.

And while he made his way from his car to the doors of the theatre, he overthought it. Frank's mind raced – it wasn't really a mile a minute, cause honestly, a mile a minute isn't all that fast. Think about it. Frank couldn't even keep up with his own thoughts and all the horrible scenarios they held, but it all came screeching to a stop once he was in the lobby and found his attention being drawn to a blonde guy waving subtly at him – as if he wasn't sure he was waving at the right person.

The blonde guy looked similar to Gerard, he was taller and his features were more defined. He had a cute, small smile, and his timid wave became a little more confident when he saw Frank staring back – despite Frank never having seen him before in his life, the guy he was looking at was unmistakably Mikey Way.

Frank felt a smile of his own coming across his face as he crossed the mildly crowded room to Mikey and the pretty girl beside him who must be Kristen. He took a deep breath before speaking.

"Hi," He began, "I'm Frank."

Totally simple introduction that he absolutely rehearsed beforehand, he didn't even fuck it up.

"I'm Mikey," Mikey replied, sticking his hand out, "Nice to finally meet you."

Frank shook his hand, and didn't even panic under his grip.

"I'm Kristen." Kristen smiled, and she shook hands with Frank as well. Again, he didn't even panic. 

It was kind of a rush for him, he was by no means calm or at ease – but the anxiousness he felt about the whole thing was practically nonexistent now. Mikey seemed nice. Yeah, Frank had only known him for under ten seconds, but his presence was warm. 

Fuckin' Ways and their weird ability to make Frank feel okay – it didn't make sense but he wasn't complaining.

Backstage, Gerard was by himself. Thankfully, he hadn't made enemies with anyone here. Everyone seemed nice, even the folks behind the scenes nodded politely to Gerard – he didn't feel invisible here, even when he was by himself he wasn't lonely. The energy was positive and encouraging. He wasn't permanent in this ballet, after tonight most of the dancers were catching a plane to their next location for another run of shows – but they accepted him.

Specifically, there was Laura, Gerard would miss her more than anyone. She acted as a friend and older sister, and was the first person to initiate a conversation with him and show him the ropes. Laura would be back in New York after this ballet was over, so maybe Gerard would have a chance to see her again, he hoped so.

The show was starting soon, Gerard would be on stage in exactly thirty minutes, so like every show, he took pain pills – otherwise, he wouldn't make it through the show without pain, even if it was minor, and he wasn't about to risk it, especially not the last performance of this ballet. Maybe the break between this one and the next one would be enough time for his back to heal. 

For now, pain pills and adrenaline did the job. As long as he wasn't hurting, that was good enough.

So after thirty minutes spent stretching and running over the choreography, he was stepping out onstage. It was bittersweet going through the night, from arriving and saying hi to everyone, changing and stretching, putting on makeup and more stretching, jittery talking and laughing with the friends he'd made, to standing in the wings, hardly able to keep still.

He was in love with performing, and it was a gorgeous sight every time he saw the lights too bright to make out anything beyond them. What mattered was on the stage, everything that existed was on the stage. Little things like the glances he caught of the other dancers while they were performing were like nothing else – making eye contact for a brief second and seeing their soul being bared, seeing them living and sweating and hearing their labored breaths or the thump every time they landed a jeté.

He was in it and living it. It was little things the audience couldn't see that Gerard cherished, along with the overall feeling of being up there, feeling like he could fly and conquer the world, exert himself and be free. Gerard got to be himself and feel good about it, he could release energy and emotions doing something beautiful that he was passionate about.

The best feeling in the world was executing a step perfectly time after time.

No amount of stage time was enough, but Gerard tried to make each performance count. This performance in particular was special, mostly because of who was in the audience. For Gerard, nothing could have been more ideal. 

It was like the air was electric and his soul was on fire – but not in a painful way, and maybe he cried a few happy tears when he finally stepped off stage. Encased in the darkness of the wings, Laura grabbed him before he could get far and wrapped him in a tight hug.

"You did so good!" She said, speaking louder to combat the sound of applause.

"Thanks, Laura." Gerard replied sincerely.

She pulled away, from where they were standing it was difficult to see each other, the lights dimming on the stage did them no favors, but that was alright.

"You're going places, Gee." She said, "You've got a real talent and passion for this, I hope I can see you go far. I know you've got it in you. Don't ever give up on what makes you happy, okay?"

Those words that Gerard would never forget were enough to push him over the edge, and he was glad it was dark so Laura couldn't see him crying – but it was all from happiness, and a little bit from being so bittersweet.

That night would stay a crystal clear memory for Gerard that he'd think about on bad days.

*

Part of Gerard wished he could hang around until the last light went out and the building was empty, but he knew he had to leave – motivated by who was waiting for him, he didn't try to stall as he packed up his stuff and waved a final goodbye to the remaining dancers.

The adrenaline was still wearing off when he stepped into the lobby. He couldn't stop himself from smiling upon seeing Mikey and Kristen with Frank. They hadn't noticed him standing back, so Gerard took advantage of it and just watched them. It made his heart swell. They were getting along, all three of them were talking and smiling.

That was his family, Gerard thought. He was watching his family together for the first time.

Just like Frank hoped, Mikey really was a sweet dude. He was quiet at times, but easy to talk to and get along with. Apparently nerdiness ran in the family, it didn't take long to figure that out, same with music. 

Mikey glanced up at something behind Frank and Kristen's eyes followed. Frank didn't have time to turn around before he felt arms sliding around his waist, and something pressing against his back – the light kiss on his neck was a dead giveaway as to who it was.

"Hey." Mikey smiled

"Hey, so what did you guys think?" Gerard replied, letting go of Frank.

"Beautiful, as always." Frank said.

Mikey nodded, "Yeah, that was amazing, Gerard."

Gerard smiled. "Are you guys getting along?"

"Nah," Mikey said casually, "We're sworn enemies."

"I can confirm this." Frank agreed.

"They're just kidding, Gerard. As if you need me to tell you that." Kristen said.

"Well, good." Gerard said, "Honestly, I wasn't that worried. Frank, though..." 

Frank shook his head, "Oh, come on. I had a right to be. I'm the guy who came out to your parents five seconds after meeting them."

"Seriously?" Mikey laughed.

"Yeah," Frank replied, "Not my proudest moment."

The night was warm, and the mood stayed light all the way out to the parking lot, where Gerard was met with the realization that this was goodbye until next time to Mikey. Frank and Kristen gave them space while they parted ways, and then it was Gerard's turn to give him and Mikey space.

"I'm glad Gerard has you." Mikey said honestly, "I know it's not a secret between you and him that he didn't grow up in the most loving environment."

"Yeah, I'm sorry you guys had to go through that." Frank said quietly.

"It's in the past." Mikey said, "Things are better now, for both of us. Keep it that way."

Frank nodded. Mikey gave him a smile, and they parted on good terms.

The theme of bittersweet followed Gerard to Frank's car, he looked back before getting in to see the last of Mikey until next time, whenever that may be, pulling out of the parking lot. Gerard told himself there had been enough happy-crying for one night, but Frank noticed the tears brimming once they were both in the car.

Gerard shook his head before Frank could ask what was wrong. "I just miss him, y'know. He's my brother, he's always been there through everything, so I miss him." Gerard looked at Frank and smiled a closed-mouth smile, he didn't mind that a tear or two rolled down his cheek.

In an attempt to comfort him, Frank held his hand.

"You'll see him again before you know it." Frank said. "It'll be alright."

"I know."

Frank brought Gerard's hand up to his lips and kissed it, and gave it a squeeze.

By the time they were home, Gerard had cried out all the tears for the night, not that there were very many. He was exhausted from the performance, but he had just enough energy left to shower, among other things.

He didn't bother to change into clothes, and only had a towel wrapped around his torso – Frank looked up from his side of the bed at Gerard exiting the bathroom. Frank's heart sped up just at the sight of him, someone he loved so much in a pure state – no makeup, no efforts to look nice, yet he still looked perfect to Frank. 

He adored the way Gerard stood there looking at him, and they shared a silent moment of contentment.

Gerard smiled, things were okay. He started towards the bed, the cool air on his damp skin caused him to be cold, and if things went the way he thought they would, that wouldn't be a problem soon. Gerard got into bed and leaned over to kiss Frank, softly at first, and innocent. He pulled back to see his reaction – Frank smiled, and Gerard responded by smiling back and kissing him again.

Frank took the lead and Gerard let him, breaking the kiss long enough to kick his pants and boxers off to the floor, and Gerard slid off his shirt – Frank guided him back so that Gerard was laying down flat with Frank positioned between his legs. Hesitantly, Gerard unwrapped himself under Frank's gaze, attacked by more cold in doing so. Frank sat back and just admired him.

It made Gerard feel self-conscious, something he hadn't felt in a long time when Frank looked at him – so, he tried to not think about what was going through Frank's mind, and instead just looked down and to the side. It wasn't that Gerard didn't want to have sex, and usually he would love the feeling of Frank looking at him like that. It was just that comment that kept coming back and disheartening him, and he was afraid that that might be all Frank could see.

It wasn't – not even close, and Frank could see the difference in his demeanor tonight, and he didn't even have to ask to have a pretty good idea of what it was about. It was shamefully relieving when Frank leaned forward and focused on kissing Gerard's thighs, he put the previous thoughts in the back of his mind and enjoyed the feeling of Frank's mouth working up to his cock, already eliciting quiet sounds of pleasure from Gerard. 

He closed his eyes and let his mind turn off and sink into the sensation, light kisses turned to hot breath ghosting over him, and then the pleasurable wetness of his mouth around him. Gerard arched his back the deeper Frank went – then he pulled off, giving Gerard chills, and then took his cock back in all the way. It became a rhythm that Frank soon broke, moving up to straddle his waist. 

Frank reached over him for the lube on the nightstand, and maybe it was silly of him, but Gerard wrapped his arms around himself while Frank lubed his fingers, partly because he was cold, but mostly because he didn't want Frank to look at him again. 

He would surely be back to his old self soon, but not tonight. The wounds from those words were just too fresh tonight. He gasped at the sudden cold from Frank's finger inside him – he didn't need much prep, it went by fast and with only two fingers. Heat radiated from Frank's body leaning over Gerard, feeling a complete contradiction between the softness of Frank's lips on his neck and the decreasing sting of his fingers.

As if Frank could read his mind, he said, "You're so fucking gorgeous."

Gerard could hear the honesty in his voice, and it helped a little. He knew he was being self critical which influenced his thoughts. Frank did think he was gorgeous, Gerard knew that deep down, it was just the doubt surfacing because of that comment – so now it was up to Gerard to let go and think of himself in a better light. But for tonight, putting it out of his mind would just have to do.

"You ready?" Frank asked before sitting back up on his knees, and pulling his fingers out of Gerard. He retrieved the lube that had been carelessly tossed aside.

Gerard smiled, "Yeah." He replied sincerely, "I love you, so much."

Frank leaned over Gerard and lined up with him, "I love you, too." He placed a swift, light kiss on the tip of Gerard's nose, causing him to giggle. 

As Frank opened the bottle, Gerard sat up reached his hand out for it, and Frank gave it to him without argument. Gerard squirted a decent amount into his palm, watching his own hand slowly wrap around Frank's cock. The sight itself was fucking hot – Frank's heart fluttered as Gerard moved his hand up and down steadily, and his touch was so light causing Frank to throb.

After he was done, Gerard laid back down – the cold he felt earlier was replaced with anticipating chills and he ached to be touched. Frank leaned over him again, and lifted Gerard's legs over his shoulders before propping himself up on his arm and pushing into Gerard.

Gerard's back arched, Frank paused so he could get used to it – when he felt him relaxing, he began to thrust, slowly at first, stroking up and down Gerard's leg with his free hand. Frank could see goose bumps trailing behind his fingertips, he loved being able to see how he was making Gerard feel.

"Faster," Gerard said, a sensual tone in his voice. 

Frank did as he asked, and sped up his thrusts, still working up, because accidentally hurting Gerard was the last thing he wanted to do. Gerard did that thing that Frank always liked as the friction built, where he'd tip his head back, eyes closed and mouth open, emitting breathy sounds with each thrust.

It turned Frank on even more, seeing that he was making Gerard feel good – Gerard inhaled deeply and twisted his fists in the sheets, getting lost in the pleasure and finally not caring about his physical self, he could only focus on the sensation, a sting that somehow felt so good and made him feel like he could never get enough of it.

Gerard let his moans get louder and he began squirming under Frank, he opened his eyes to see Frank repositioning more upright so he could thrust faster, breathing hard, and the only noises in the apartment were the fucking obscene breathy moans from them both, their skin connecting and the creak of the bed.

Frank was rapidly reaching his climax, sweat beading on his skin and beginning to feel worn out – he noticed Gerard getting louder and tensing up, before he came all over his stomach with a shudder. A few more hard thrusts and Frank was tipped over the edge, as well. 

Gerard's legs fell tiredly from Frank's shoulders as he shifted up beside him – Gerard didn't feel like moving but he willed himself up, reaching for a tissue from the nightstand closest to him to wipe off his belly. Frank met his mouth with his own and laid his hand on top of Gerard's, rubbing it gently. Gerard didn't even move away from Frank to throw the tissue somewhere in the general direction of the trash can. 

He pretty much melted into Frank's arms as he pulled Gerard over on top of him, Frank held him in place so he couldn't pull away when he asked quietly:

"Do you feel okay?"

At first, Gerard wasn't sure why Frank was asking. He lifted his head to look Frank in the eyes.

"Yeah, why?" He asked.

"Earlier," Frank replied, "You didn't look very into it. You looked kinda sad, actually."

That jogged his memory. He shrugged, "I don't know, I just felt self-conscious, I guess."

The sweat between them was beginning to feel uncomfortable, so Frank loosened his grip. He got his answer, it was unfortunately honest and he didn't know how to respond to it. 'I think you're being a bit ridiculous by letting it get to you to the point of being self-conscious around me? But at the same time I feel for you and I understand that it's something that clearly makes you unhappy and you can't help that?' 

If a relationship doesn't have trust and honesty, then what kind of relationship is it? Then again, why would Frank say something when he knew it'd only hurt Gerard's feelings? He tried to think of a happy medium.

"You shouldn't feel that way." Frank said.

"Maybe not, but I do." Gerard replied, settling beside Frank. "I'll get over it. Anyway, I don't wanna talk about it."

And Frank was a-okay with that. But he wasn't okay with this being the last conversation of the night. He needed a second to relax first - cool off and catch his breath. He laid there until he built up the strength to reluctantly scoot towards the edge of the bed, knowing he'd completely disrupted Gerard's comfort in doing so, who was probably already starting to drift off to sleep.

"Where are you going?" Gerard asked, suddenly afraid he'd done something wrong, because of course he did something wrong – like always. That's how Tim treated him when he fucked up, he'd just walk away and leave him.

"Just putting on some pants." Frank replied as he stood up – he picked up his discarded pajama pants from the floor and slipped them on, talking as he did so. Gerard pulled back the covers and got under, having already cooled off. 

The mattress dipped when Frank got back into bed, staying close to Gerard. He felt bad for the little bit of worry that had arisen in him, and feeling Frank back beside him only made him realize how stupid he'd been to have actually believed that.

"Tell me about tonight." Frank said, while Gerard settled beside him again and used Frank's outstretched arm as a pillow.

"What about it?" Gerard asked.

Frank draped his free arm across Gerard's waist. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

"Then tell me about it." Frank smiled.

"Why?" Gerard asked curiously, "Not that I have a problem with it, just – what brought that up?"

"I like hearing you talk about things you enjoy." Frank replied.

"Um, okay?" Gerard said, "Well, I'm gonna miss Laura. That's not enjoyable, though. But maybe I'll see her again. She told me something tonight, I'll never forget it."

"What was that?"

"She told me not to give up on what makes me happy." Gerard replied. "And I think that can go a lot of ways, y'know. I mean, I think she was talking about dancing, but it could be applied to anything."

"What makes you happy?" Frank asked.

"You." Gerard smiled, "You make me very happy – oh, and dancing, obviously. Mikey makes me happy. Music, drawing, coffee..." 

Frank loved hearing Gerard's tone of voice changing into something lighter as he talked.

"Comics – I like comics. And orgasms." 

Frank laughed.

"What's funny?" Gerard asked.

"Comics and orgasms, huh?" Frank said smiling.

"What, you don't like those things?" Gerard asked.

"Oh, no, I do – it's just, it was funny in the context. I wasn't expecting it."

"Expect the unexpected, loverboy." Gerard replied, causing Frank to giggle.

"What do I even follow that up with?" Frank asked.

"You don't," Gerard said, "Cause in the movies, this is the part where you kiss me."

"It's not the movies, though." Frank said, kissing his jawline regardless and nuzzling towards his ear. He slid his hand down along Gerard's side. "It's like..." He paused to kiss Gerard again, still sliding his hand lower, "Really bad fan fiction."

Gerard giggled, opening his legs for Frank and thanking his lucky stars that he was still an easily aroused teenager. 

"Bad fan fiction? Not even mediocre, maybe?" Gerard said.

"Maybe." Frank agreed, bringing his mouth up to Gerard's, stroking his half-hard cock, it wasn't difficult to get him fully hard again, and still easy to get him off being oversensitive.

Gerard let himself relax while Frank jerked him off, not caring about anything other than the tickle of lips on his neck and the sensation centered in his cock that sent shocks of pleasure throughout his body. He came with moan, and Frank stroked him through it. 

Afterward, Gerard cleaned them both up with another tissue – and successfully tossed it into the trash can this time. Gerard kissed Frank's temple and cuddled into his side, Frank held him protectively.

"Yeah," Gerard smiled, "Really bad fan fiction."

Sleep came easy for them both, wrapped in comfort and peace. Nothing could be better.

The next day was just as nice, they were both up at the same time and went out for breakfast, celebrating Gerard's performance – after that they went home, Frank spent as long as he could with Gerard until he had to go to work – he fully expected a normal day and to return home to Gerard that night in high spirits, but the universe just had other plans.

*

The day dragged on in a weird state, the last classes of the day were ending and she'd held on for as long as she could.

Numbness. That's all she knew stumbling back to her office, holding on to the wall for support. Her balance was never this poor, her vision wasn't supposed to be blurry, and Mrs. Kovlov knew something was wrong. It had been like this leading up to the stroke, but never this bad, and she was alright for awhile but those symptoms and head aches kept coming back.

Strokes kill brain cells, and she was still recovering. Although she didn't have a massive stroke that she formerly believed hadn't left her with impairments, Mrs. Kovlov was now reconsidering that – impairments were the only explanation for this, but no hospitalization would be needed. The problems would go away on their own or she would learn to deal with them.

Mrs. Kovlov sat down at her desk – she didn't have any more medication. Since Frank pestered her about it so much, she regrettably gave up on it for his sake. She thought it best to call her husband, let him know things were worse than usual. Dialing his number proved difficult with the numbness in her hands, they just wouldn't work.

At first, she didn't even notice the figure entering her office.

"Hey, Mrs. Kovlov." Frank greeted in his usual tone.

She stopped trying to call her husband and glanced up at Frank – his expression was neutral, he had no idea what was going on with her, and she needed to keep it that way.

Mrs. Kovlov tried, but she couldn't get herself to speak. She opted for a nod and a pleasant smile to cover for herself, despite the numbness in her face, and then she noticed Frank's expression change into one of concern.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked, sitting down.

She nodded. "Yes." She said, her speech was slurred, "Why?"

It wasn't hard for Frank to see that she was lying – here she was, recovering from a stroke and still experiencing things Frank knew weren't normal, smiling with only half of her face moving. On top of that, she seemed disoriented and struggling to speak. 

Frank didn't want to panic, whatever her confusion was would probably clear up in a second. And, him getting upset would most likely only make the situation worse and cause Mrs. Kovlov to become upset, too.

"Something isn't right about you," Frank replied, Mrs. Kovlov could see worry in his eyes. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No," She said, stammering at first, "No!"

Frank didn't expect her to raise her voice like that, and it certainly didn't ease his nerves. 

"Please." Frank asked sternly and slowly so she could understand. "Mrs. Kovlov, this isn't normal."

Mrs. Kovlov opened and closed her mouth as if she was trying to form words, and that was the last straw for Frank. He didn't know what was going on with her – he didn't know about the numbness, the confusion, how her vision was growing worse and worse as they spoke. Mrs. Kovlov was determined to not need any more fucking medical attention, but god was she getting scared. It was like reliving her stroke, but so much worse.

Frank kept an eye on Mrs. Kovlov as he frantically pulled out his phone and called 911 – he looked at her the whole time he was talking, she wasn't looking at anything in particular and didn't appear to be fully awake. Frank was panicked, he didn't know what the fuck was happening to her but he knew it couldn't be good. He rattled off the address and symptoms.

If ever there was a time to panic, it was definitely then. His stomach was flipping and he felt cold as he hung up the phone, what was he going to do now? He had to tell someone, right? But he had to stay with Mrs. Kovlov to make sure she was okay? Fuck, he didn't know what to do. Frank stood up and rounded the desk to Mrs. Kovlov, he bent over so they were at eye level and he laid his hands on her shoulders.

"Mrs. Kovlov?" He said, "Look at me, look at me, please." 

It was delayed, but her eyes shifted and eventually landed on his, she didn't look alert. This was clearly an emergency, and Frank knew it could be fatal if she didn't get help in time.

"Talk to me." Frank urged, but of course she didn't respond. It was like some of his worst fears were coming true, it was like watching this happen to his mom, since that was basically what she was to him. "Goddamnit, Mrs. Kovlov, please!"

The look in her eyes was fucking eerie and it gave Frank an uneasy feeling.

*

Gerard was home. He had nothing to do other than relax, take a day off – he'd caught up on a few days of school he'd missed and he hadn't really moved from the couch since Frank went to work, other than to get up to find one of his notebooks and a pencil to draw. He was making an effort to do that more often, he went for so long neglecting it – too long, really. He missed it.

Drawing was easy to get lost in, Gerard didn't realize how much time had passed since he started – Frank would be home soon, probably in about twenty or thirty minutes, depending on traffic. Gerard got back up to put his things back in the dresser – they really needed to do something about storage, because that was not at all convenient. 

On the bright side, Gerard didn't feel like a guest in their apartment despite the 'it'll do for now' protocol they had when he moved in. 'Now' was in the making but rapidly coming to an end – lately Gerard had been rearranging a few things and it was all perfectly fine with Frank, he expected it and was actually happy to see the physical proof that two people comfortably lived there. 

Now it was all just a matter of more storage space, which wouldn't be a big deal.

Gerard sunk back down onto the couch – ultimately, this move was good. This environment was far better and healthier for Gerard. He was happy, and if he overlooked the back pain and weight problems, which may prove to not be problems at all, his life was pretty fucking amazing, it was all he could ever wish for. It was headed in the perfect direction, bound to only get better, and he found himself smiling at the thought.

To pass the time until Frank got home, Gerard flipped through random channels with the volume barely audible. Thirty minutes passed, and that thirty morphed into forty. Something was wrong, or off in the very least. 

Gerard's attention was turned to the door opening, and Frank stepping into the living room. 

"Hey." Gerard said. He saw that Frank looked frazzled and worried and he carried a negative energy. "You're late, is something wrong?"

Before Frank answered, Gerard could tell something indeed was wrong by the way Frank didn't look at him and leaned with his back against the door – folding one arm across his chest and bringing the other hand up to his eyes. Frank nodded, Gerard stood up quickly to go over to him, his heart was already speeding up in anticipation for whatever was wrong.

"What's going on, Frank?" Gerard asked, reaching out to Frank's sides and bringing himself closer to him.

Frank leaned into Gerard, and in turn Gerard instinctively wrapped his arms around Frank. Gerard tried to keep his cool and not freak out, not ask again – just let Frank answer when he could, but Gerard couldn't stop himself from panicking, he'd never seen Frank this upset. Frank had about two distinct moods excluding neutral, and those were happy and angry.

"Tell me what's going on." Gerard tried to keep his voice steady.

He felt Frank inhale sharply.

"She's fucking gone." He wept.

Gerard's breath hitched – she? She was gone? It couldn't be the she Gerard was afraid it would be, it couldn't be that she. Gerard didn't want to ask, he held tightly to Frank. His body shook and he squeezed Gerard, crying silently except for occasional erratic breaths.

"She?" Gerard found himself saying, hardly above a whisper.

He didn't get a reply. 

A wave of reality washed over Frank that left hot tears falling down his cheeks. He couldn't shake the thought of her – the last thing she said, knowing she was upset. In the blink of an eye, she became a memory. It left Frank feeling hollow and sick. He didn't know what to do or how to begin processing her death. 

Frank cried mostly because he was scared. Scared of the last memory he had of the closest thing he knew to a mom, scared of knowing he would never see her or talk to her again – everything was over in just twenty minutes, and she was never coming back. He was shaking mostly because he was scared and shocked. What came next? Mrs. Kovlov had a husband and actual children of her own to take care of everything, all Frank could do was mourn. He felt useless and small.

Time passed, Frank seemed to have calmed down, but Gerard knew it wasn't over yet. It was just the calm before the storm. Gerard wished he could trade places with Frank, let Tim trade places with Mrs. Kovlov – 'she' had to be her. Frank didn't deserve to go through that, he didn't deserve to feel the hurt and loss of someone he loved. Everyone he looked up to was fucking dead or gone and there was nothing anyone could do to change that or make anything okay again.

Gerard didn't know how to console him, he didn't know how Frank felt or what he was thinking, he didn't know what to do. Gerard knew he had to be the adult now, he had to be the one to comfort Frank and somehow make things okay, like Frank had done for him once before.

But Gerard wasn't ready to take this on.

Not something of this magnitude or anything else worse – he didn't know it, though. He wouldn't even admit it if he did, but whether he was ready or not, it was happening and life went on down unpredictable roads. 

Maybe some people are born unlucky, maybe some people make the wrong choices and fall into it. Maybe it's karma or fate, no one fucking knows why bad things happen, but they do, and it can't be helped. 

It was like life never gave them a break, they could never enjoy it for longer than five minutes before everything fell apart again, life was a fucking raw deal, and it wasn't fair – because Gerard was still a kid. So was Frank, really, and even to be so young, they knew pain in their own ways. They dealt with it, they figured it out and were able to handle it. But the scary thing about life is that once you've got it all figured out, it throws you a curveball without any motherfucking warning.

Somehow, it all fell apart, right when shit was finally going their way, right when they were both fucking happy and things were alright, they were better than alright, and now nothing was.

"I was there," Frank spoke up. His voice was hoarse and quiet. "I watched her have a fucking stroke, I didn't know it."

Frank's voice broke at the end of his sentence. 

"I'm sorry." Gerard said quietly. He didn't know what else to say – how to comfort Frank. He couldn't ask if he was okay, that would be fucking ridiculous because of course he wasn't.

Gerard didn't know what to do, and that was ripping him apart. He had a ringside seat to Frank's crying and loss, and all he could say was that he was fucking sorry? It hurt him to see Frank like that, and Gerard began crying himself. 

Gerard pulled away from Frank – the warmth between them vanished and it made Gerard feel incomplete without Frank in his arms. Frank involuntarily sniffled as Gerard held him at arms length and looked him over. He'd never seen Frank in this light before – fragile and uncertain, a side of him he never showed to anyone.

"She died after the medics got there." Frank managed, roughly wiping his face with his hands in an attempt to regain composure. "So what am I supposed to do now? Just act like she never existed?"

Gerard shook his head, "No, no – I don't know what you're supposed to do." He started backing up, pulling Frank along with him, "But you've gotta mourn, and then you figure it out."

Frank got the gist of what he meant. It's somewhat bullshit when people say crying doesn't solve any of your problems. It solves at least one – getting out bottled up emotions which are bad to keep in. Frank had a lot of those, some remaining from when his aunt died. He followed Gerard into the bathroom, and watched as he wet a wash cloth with cold water, and rung it out to lay across Frank's forehead – just like Frank had done with Gerard.

Frank kept his eyes closed and leaned against the sink, he tried to process the loss. His forehead creased under the cloth and tears still fell from his eyes, but he breathed. He breathed deeply and tried to understand, wrap his head around everything – and tune the world out. 

Life passed in slow motion and he relived the events. Recovering from this would be a long road, he knew that, Gerard knew that. 

Bones break. You can't walk it off, but you can help it heal. Sometimes it acts up, but you did all you could for it.

There are more ways to look at life than just through the eyes of a pessimist or an optimist. The thing about black and white is that they contain all the other colors – there's always pain. You can look at life as being demented, a burden that fucks us all eventually and sometimes the sun comes out just to keep up our hopes of bliss in the end, even if it's all in vain.

Or, there are ups and downs in life. It's a rollercoaster – the scariest parts lead up to ecstasy and the feeling of freedom, life is a thrilling ride and in the end it leaves you happy, all the obstacles you faced had a reward in the end. 

However you see it, there's always good and bad. You let the good and bad shape you, and you don't let anything break your spirit.

Either way, nobody gets out alive.

Life is sadistic. It doesn't take much to tip the balance, and then there's no stopping the fall.


	41. Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

JULY

The funeral was in three days, Frank held it together for one.

Initially, Gerard was concerned and stayed on edge around Frank. The night he came home with the news of Mrs. Kovlov's death, he wore himself out and calmed down before they went to bed, and Gerard worried because he seemed like he just flipped a switch, from the world ending to just being a little bummed out. But Gerard had never seen him mourn before, so he thought maybe that's just what Frank did.

The next day was pretty much a repeat of the previous night. Frank moping around, obviously devoid of some of his usual energy, but otherwise going about his day like nobody died. At face value, he just seemed tired. He had to go to work – he picked himself up and carried on like usual the best he could. 

It didn't take a lot of mustering up strength and willpower. It was like a daydream, sort of. He just felt tired and unmotivated – he hurt emotionally, the kind where he felt it in his body and it was like someone had their hand around his heart trying to pull it out – he tried to not let himself feel it, though, but it was constantly there screaming at him. Frank knew he had to get through the day and he wanted things to be normal. He all but stopped trying to process Kovlov's death and just tried to push it away to the back of his mind.

Of course that didn't work. Frank's stomach was in knots, he thought about it all day long, but he just tried to lie to himself and attempted to focus on something else. His mind was like a broken record, repeating over and over that Mrs. Kovlov is gone – but regardless of that, he didn't stop trying to turn a deaf ear to the fact and he kept his mind under false colors. It was just bottling up.

Frank couldn't accept it.

Gerard knew Frank pretty well, but knowing a lot about a person and experiencing everything with them first hand are two very different things. And really, albeit Gerard being mature for just eighteen in his mentality and actions, Gerard was still just a kid. A kid who, unfortunately and unknowingly, was not at all in the stable state of mind he thought he was – thanks to mental illness, which was nobody's fault, and thanks to years of abuse to go along with that.

Having virtually nothing to do for a week or two was excruciating for Gerard, being used to almost always being on the move, just the way he liked it. He was running out of places to go while Frank wasn't home, Patrick was in Chicago with Pete for a few weeks, there were only so many stretches and warm-ups Gerard could do, and he was alarmingly ahead in school now. He fucking missed taking dance lessons, and it was like relearning all over again that Kovlov was gone every time he remembered the place.

Gerard was drawing a lot more, though. He counted that as a plus, and he discovered new music, rediscovered old music, read some more books and comics and caught up on things he hadn't had enough time to give attention to. 

He was now on his knees, rearranging the movies on the shelves, and he had half a row to go when Frank called – Gerard reached for his phone on the floor beside him, unsure of whether or not he should worry or be excited over the name on the caller ID.

"Hey." Gerard answered with a smile.

"Hey," Frank said, from the quieter tone in his voice Gerard could tell he was in the same mood as earlier. "What are you up to?"

Gerard shrugged even though no one could see it, "Reorganizing some stuff. Why?"

"Is it alright with you if I go out with Ray tonight?" Frank asked, "Like, I guess we'll just go to a bar or something for a little while."

"Yeah, sure." Gerard replied, going back to examining movies and sliding them onto the shelf, "You don't have to ask my permission, y'know."

"I know. I mean, I just figured you'd wanna know or maybe you had plans." Frank said matter-of-factly.

Gerard set the last movie back on the shelf. "No," He said, "I didn't think you'd feel like it."

"Oh."

"Anyway," Gerard stood up and paced around, "So how do you feel – better, worse, somewhere in between?"

"I don't know." Frank replied.

The corners of Gerard's mouth twitched down at Frank's answer. "Well, you know it's gonna be okay."

There was a pause, not too long, but just long enough for it to be out of the ordinary. "She fucking died yesterday." Frank snapped, "Nothing is okay, Gerard."

"I – I'm sorry." Gerard replied, taken aback and slightly hurt.

He heard Frank sigh, "No, don't be. I'm sorry. You were just trying to make me feel better."

Gerard wasn't sure what to say – he just made Frank angry, it was a first and hopefully the last time. He fucked up, he always fucked up. Maybe it really wasn't his parents all those years, maybe it was really him all along that made them that way, and now what if it was the same thing with Frank?

Maybe his dad was right when he told Gerard he was unlovable.

"Are you angry?" Gerard asked.

"Not at you." Frank replied, sounding tired.

"So you are angry, then?" Gerard continued, leaning against the shelf.

"Of course," Frank replied, "Of course I'm angry, how the fuck could I not be? Life keeps fucking me over every time something good happens – I can't catch a goddamn break." He paused to keep his voice from wavering, "I hate this."

Gerard could beat himself up for being so pointlessly sensitive – it felt like another scolding hidden under a carefully worded layer of deprecating sentences. That's all he knew – that, and the familiar stinging in his eyes again. Gerard felt bad for Frank, he felt bad because he was angry, because he was mourning, and like Frank said, he couldn't catch a break – and now there was the added worry of Gerard having said or done the wrong thing, thus fucking things up again.

"Sorry." Gerard repeated, quieter this time.

"It's not your fault." Frank replied, still sounding agitated from what Gerard could tell. "Anyway, I'm gonna go."

"Okay."

"See you tonight, I love you." Frank said, finally changing his tone to something a little softer.

"Yeah," Gerard replied, "I love you too. Be safe, please."

"Always." Frank replied.

"Bye." Gerard said. He hesitated before bringing the phone away from his ear, just in case Frank wasn't done talking, but he was, apparently. He hung up.

And now Gerard just felt sort of empty.

*

Add lonely to the list – and concerned. Empty, lonely, concerned, although less empty than earlier, most of it was gone, there was no room for both it and the over-thinking. Gerard was sick of the isolated feeling he had that evening, even if it was only a few extra hours in total. His mind didn't make good company. 

There was a lot of missing lately – missing Mikey, missing Frank when he was gone, missing classes, and missing something else. He didn't know what the something else was, it just wasn't there anymore and that bugged him. It wasn't even like whatever it was that wasn't there was on the tip of his tongue, it felt distant, long gone.

Gerard had all he could stand of the overthinking, and he wanted to talk to Mikey. Not even text him, but call him, which was entirely out of character for either of them unless something was wrong – and well, something kinda was.

Maybe Mikey could help fix that – so Gerard called him up, sitting at the kitchen table, the only light coming in was the glow of the muted TV and the city lights from the window. Dramatic? Probably. Helping him to feel less isolated? Hardly.

"What's up?" Mikey said immediately.

"My blood pressure." Gerard replied flatly.

"Elaborate?" Mikey asked.

Gerard sat back and sighed. "Where do I begin?" He said overly sarcastic, "Do you have time to talk for awhile?"

"Sure." Mikey said, still skeptical about where this was going.

"So, I told you about Kovlov." Gerard began, "I'm bored as fuck. Frank's probably pissed at me, I miss you, I miss having something to do all day, I'm gaining weight, and something's just off."

"Okay, not sure I caught all that." Mikey replied, "What's off?"

"Everything?" Gerard replied. "Alright, not everything. I don't know what it is, but it sucks. I'm worried Frank's mad at me."

"What happened?" Mikey asked.

"He's been in a haze since yesterday, and I get that, y'know. I know he can't help that." Gerard explained, "But he's angry, he said he feels like life is always fucking him over – but it was the way he said it. It felt like he was mad at me. What if I'm part of the problem?"

"You aren't." Mikey reassured, "Where is Frank now?"

"He's with Ray – should be back soon." Gerard replied.

Mikey exhaled, "He raised his voice when he said that?"

"Yeah."

"Alright," Mikey said, "I don't think he's mad at you, Gerard. You're probably gonna deny it, but I don't think you deal with people raising their voices like maybe what's normal." True to his word, Gerard wanted to say something, but Mikey continued on, "Neither do I, though. If Kristen or someone gets angry and starts yelling, I feel like I have to cower. Like they're angry at me or something and I'm about to receive the punishment."

Gerard didn't know what to say – what Mikey described was how he felt. 

"Gerard?" Mikey said, "Still there?"

"Yeah." Gerard said, "Why, though? What's wrong with – oh. Dad. It's because of him, isn't it?"

"If I had to guess." Mikey replied, "It's a pretty common reaction for people."

"Well I'm just thrilled to know that, but that didn't really solve any problems." Gerard replied.

"Sure it did." Mikey said, "You've got the reassurance that your boyfriend isn't mad at you. Besides, he's going through a rough time, definitely be there for him, communicate with him and all that."

"Yeah." Gerard said, "Wow, now I feel like a selfish asshole."

"Well, tell Frank that." Mikey stated. 

"I will."

"What else did you say was wrong?" Mikey asked.

"I'm fat." Gerard said, beginning to bouncing his leg nervously.

"Moving on." Mikey scoffed.

"Whatever." Gerard shook his head. He was about to tell Mikey about his boredom, but he got a text message before he could begin. "Hang on, let me read this text."

He put Mikey on speaker and switched apps – the text was from Ray. He scanned over it once, and then reread it, trying to fully comprehend what Ray said.

"Everything okay?" Mikey asked.

"Depends on your definition of 'okay.'" Gerard replied, unsure of how to feel.

"Spill it." Mikey said.

"Ray's on his way here with Frank." Gerard replied, "Because Frank's too drunk to drive himself. Great, that's really fucking great."

"It might not be as bad as it seems," Mikey tried to be positive, "Maybe he's just being cautious, y'know."

Gerard sighed, "Yeah, yeah you're right. Fuck, why am I overreacting so much."

"Don't get down on yourself." Mikey said, "You can't help that you care about him."

*

Talking to Mikey made a difference – Gerard felt more sure that most of the problems going on were just exaggerated from being in his head for too long. Bad problems did exist, sure, like Kovlov's death. That could not be overlooked. Other things didn't seem as dire, though.

Being alone can be therapeutic sometimes, but it can also take a toll on a person.

Soon, Gerard was scrambling up from the couch and crossing over to the door after hearing a knock – he opened the door, and was met with Ray, his arm was around Frank to support him. He looked completely out of it.

"Hey, Gerard." Ray greeted, "He's plastered, I'm sorry."

Gerard didn't know how to treat the situation – before he thought of what to say, Frank stumbled out of his embrace and held onto the doorframe – he reeked of alcohol and appeared to be ready to fall asleep.

"Jesus Christ." Gerard muttered. "Thanks for bringing him back, Ray."

"Thanks, Ray." Frank slurred.

"No problem." Ray nodded, "Keep an eye on him."

Frank laughed, "No, I'm okay."

Ray and Gerard exchanged glances, obviously knowing Frank was in fact the opposite of 'okay'.

"Be seeing you guys." Ray said, turning to go down the hall.

"Seeya, Ray. Thanks again." Gerard replied, tugging Frank into the apartment.

"Bye." Frank waved after him, Ray waved back before disappearing from view.

Gerard closed the door, "You gonna tell me why you went out to get shitfaced? Because that's not like you."

"Why are you so pissed off?" Frank asked lightly, still smiling and using the couch to prop on.

"I'm not pissed off, look at yourself!" Gerard replied, gesturing towards Frank. He wasn't angry – he just didn't like seeing Frank like this, someone he loved so fucked up – Frank was always responsible and mature, he was the adult of the two, that's how Gerard saw it, and now to see him wasted out of his mind, and knowing he was still hurting from the loss was honestly a little scary. Gerard didn't know what was going on with him or how to help him. A part of him felt like he was failing Frank.

"Who cares?" Frank said, catching Gerard off guard, "God, who the fuck cares about anything?" He inched away from the safety of the couch's support and closer to Gerard, careful to not lose his balance – he held out his arms towards Gerard. "I guess I care, a little too much, huh?"

Gerard reached out to take hold of Frank's hand – he didn't know what Frank was talking about, but apparently it made sense in his own mind.

"Fuck everything, babe. Just fuck it all – I don't wanna care anymore." He concluded, wrapping his arms around Gerard. "S' fucking stupid, the world's fucking stupid."

Gerard held Frank close – Frank was more or less hanging on to him rather than hugging him. Gerard figured this was about Mrs. Kovlov, and he hoped this wasn't how Frank planned to continue to cope with it.

"Come on," Gerard said in a calmer voice, and attempting to detach himself from Frank's hold, "You need to just go to bed, we'll talk tomorrow."

*

During the night, Frank had to get up to vomit twice. Gerard hated it, but he stayed by Frank's side – while Frank's head wasn't in the toilet and he was in bed, cold to the touch but continuously kicking the covers off, Gerard tried to put himself in Frank's shoes – to forgive him, in a way.

Getting drunk to forget about his problems shouldn't have been an option, he shouldn't have done that – but Gerard understood why he did. It wasn't Frank's fault he cared about her, and he couldn't help that he was devastated. So no, Frank shouldn't have gotten plastered, but Gerard shouldn't hold a grudge because he did. Mikey was right – Gerard needed to be there for him because he was going through a rough time. 

Gerard knew he couldn't just turn his back on Frank because of a mistake, especially under the circumstances. If Gerard were the one fucked up, he'd want Frank there with him. Besides, they were in this together, right? One couldn't invest his time in the other only if things were okay – they were together through the good and the bad.

And yeah, Frank was still understandably in a bad mood, but the next day was better. However, the knowledge of Mrs. Kovlov's funeral tomorrow stayed the elephant in the room. As Ray said to do the night before, Gerard kept an eye on Frank – he made him shower while Gerard fixed breakfast, got him to take something for the head-pounding hangover, and once he was feeling less like someone had taken a hammer to his skull, Gerard calmly asked him what last night was about.

It was variations of the same thing, all having to do with the day before yesterday. Apparently, Frank blamed himself – and he couldn't stop apologizing to Gerard. He called Ray to apologize to him, as well, and to say thanks.

That evening, Gerard drove Frank back to the parking lot where he left his car. There were no classes Frank had to teach – there were no classes at all. They were called off indefinitely, which was admittedly relieving, because Frank didn't know if he could go back so soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beginning to write ch42 immediately, this is so long overdue and I apologize! I hope to have ch42 out way sooner, it will be longer and more exciting stuff happens, if you can call it exciting. anyway!


	42. Good Old Fashioned Depression

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot bELIEVE this story is over half way done.  
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, @losermicah  
> Hope you enjoy!

And then came the day nobody looked forward to – Frank was silent that morning and he stayed in bed, it wasn't an easy sight to see, but Gerard gave him space and checked up on him once every little while. He didn't wanna be clingy and suffocating while his boyfriend grieved, but he didn't wanna be distant and cold – a happy medium worked. Frank appreciated it, though. Gerard could tell despite Frank never outright saying it, it was held in the little touches and the twitches of his mouth, going up into a tiny smile and disappearing just as soon as it arrived. Frank didn't feel like smiling, he just didn't have the energy.

Frank wished he could drift off but he never did, he just laid there in a sort of haze where he could never really get comfortable but he didn't wanna move, and the seconds lasted for minutes and the minutes lasted for hours.

He heard Gerard come into the room, Frank was on his side facing a wall with his eyes open, not looking at anything in particular – he felt the mattress dip and warmth on his back following it, and then Gerard's arm draping over him reassuringly and finding his hand to take hold of.

Gerard placed a kiss on Frank's neck, and spoke tentatively with his mouth still pressed against it. "We need to leave in about an hour, okay?"

He felt Frank nodding, so he continued, "I'm gonna take a shower."

A part of Frank wanted to protest and tell Gerard to come back, he missed the weight and heat of his body against him, but he couldn't bring himself to when Gerard backed off, the bed creaked and became still, and Gerard was headed into the bathroom before Frank could make himself move. 

It was a weird mix of feeling nothing but everything at the same time – like everything he felt was dulled down on the outside but raging around and trapped way deep down, and he just needed something to take him out of it. More alcohol was the convenient option. Actually, fuck convenient – it was seemingly the only option for Frank's currently fucked up and mourning state. Being drunk wasn't going to solve shit, he knew that, but it would black everything out until it was over and didn't need to be solved anymore.

Convenience wasn't even a factor, it was just a little white lie in place of 'I don't know what else to fucking do because I am dying.' And Frank didn't know how else he'd get through the funeral. Whatever was going on in that deep down place was chaos, it was a war zone and if it could just bubble up to the surface, Frank might explode. He needed something to make him feel and not feel, something to take up the space of the hole that was left in his chest.

He heard the water in the shower start up, and closed his eyes, telling himself he had to get up, and if he didn't do it now, maybe he never would. On the count of three, he decided. He'd get up on the count of three – but ended up going on two. And then he just sat on the edge of the bed questioning his ability to walk ten steps to the closet. 

This is what it was like when his depression was bad. It came and went, sort of. He'd have good months and they were followed up by bad months, and apparently his luck had run it course, because it was about that time again and he'd been living awhile feeling alright. Frank figured he took plenty of stuff for granted, what human doesn't? But he just couldn't crack the code of depression – like, was he taking not wanting to die every day for granted so here comes another bout with depression knocking on his door again to humble his ass?

God's kind of a cynical motherfucker sometimes.

Bullshit. And with that, Frank got up to the fleeting thought of fuck you brain, I'll show you – but that faded after reaching his closet. He pushed clothes back and searched for his suit, feeling like he'd just woken up all the while, thoughts were delayed and his hand eye coordination just would not work the way it should.

He'd had about all of that he could stand after laying his suit out on the bed, he needed coffee or an IV filled with caffeine pumping into his bloodstream or something, anything to wake up from whatever funk he was in. Which reminded him – he might benefit from a shower, too, cause it had been a day or four.

They had to leave in an hour according to Gerard – yeah, there would be time, probably, if Gerard didn't take forever in there, but why take a chance? Frank got small rush, and was relieved to fucking feel something again.

He stripped in the bedroom and crossed to the bathroom door, Frank knocked.

"Showering!" Gerard said, his voice raised to combat the running water.

"Can I come in?" Frank asked in an unexpectedly thick tone.

"Well, I can't stop you!" Gerard replied.

That was Gerard-speak for 'be my guest' or a passive aggressive 'no.' It was hard to distinguish the two sometimes. Frank opened the door anyway, he'd figure it out. The bathroom was slippery and filled with steam, he didn't bother to close the door behind him, instead he just went for the shower and pulled the curtain aside. Gerard looked confused but not unwelcoming when Frank wordlessly stepped in, Gerard moved back a little to make room.

"Frank, what--"

Frank shook his head as a nonverbal way to hush him as he pulled Gerard closer, and met his lips with a kiss. Gerard pulled back, but stayed close.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

No.

"Yeah." Frank muttered. "No, I don't know, just – just come here." His voice softened at the end of his sentence, and he kissed Gerard again. Gerard kissed back this time, and Frank was grateful for the running water to help muffle his thoughts, but he still needed something to settle down the internal chaos or fill up the hole in which it mocked.

The kissing grew more heated and Frank led, only breaking it once – he kept an arm around Gerard's back to pull him closer so Gerard was pressed against him, resting his chin on his shoulder. With his free hand, Frank stuck a couple of fingers in his own mouth.

Spit would just have to suffice in place of lube, he guessed – when his fingers were sufficiently wet enough, he brought his hand around to Gerard's entrance, it probably wasn't too romantic, but neither were complaining. Gerard let out a small gasp, and Frank felt him tense up a little at his fingers suddenly in him.

Gerard closed his eyes and tried to relax while Frank prepped him, it was humid enough in there so that their skin sort of clung and dragged across the other's skin – and standing up was awkward. It was a sex position Gerard had yet to mark off his list of sex positions he'd never been in, not that that was actually a thing of his.

They were both hard by the time Frank was done, without much warning Frank held onto Gerard's hips and guided him half way around so that he was facing the wall – Gerard leaned with his forearms against it above his head for support, cold everywhere his skin touched the tiles, giving him goose bumps. Frank lightly brushing against him only added to that, and it turned Gerard on that much more. 

Something about the spontaneous shower sex was strange, mostly because it was just that – spontaneous, and Gerard didn't think Frank would feel up to sex today. He hoped Frank was alright.

And then came the familiar sting, Gerard let his hips be pushed forward by the weight of Frank filling him up. Frank gripped his soft hips for balance.

"Okay?" Frank breathed out.

"Yeah." Gerard replied.

Frank began to thrust with Gerard's approval – it differed from the usual passionate sex, there wasn't a slow build up to the hard pounding that didn't hurt by the time they got there because they were both so fucking gone at that point and needed to get off – this time, he went straight for it, and Gerard wasn't able to do much other than keep his legs spread and utter short, breathy moans.

Gerard could tell Frank was close from the thrusting beginning to get erratic and short, he clasped a hand on top of Frank's, still resting on his hip. Sweat mixed in with the water on Gerard's forehead, and the air in the bathroom just became too hot – hot damn. 

It didn't last long at all, Gerard was no where near his peak but Frank slowed down and ceased movement for a split second, Gerard could imagine his face – eyes shut and mouth open, Frank moved again slowly, and Gerard arched his back when he pulled out, followed up by Frank pulling him back, wrapping an arm around him and using the other hand to finish up and jerk him off.

Gerard tipped his head back and let it rest in the crook of Frank's neck – he could hear him breathing hard and felt the gusts of it on his shoulder. Gerard relaxed maybe more-so than he had since the whole spontaneous shower sex began, feeling alright now in Frank's arms.

Still, though – he was concerned, but other things were occupying his mind. Frank knew just how to do it, he knew what points to tighten his fist and loosen it, and he knew the right speed for Gerard – they'd done it a time or two and it didn't take long for Frank to figure out what he liked.

Waves of pleasure washed through him, he elicited the drawn out, high pitched moan that Frank loved to hear. Gerard dug his fingertips into his own leg and Frank's arm wrapped around him. Gerard wished he could've stayed in that orgasm-high, but he came down too soon and out of breath.

It went by quick – Gerard might've even questioned whether or not the whole ordeal actually happened if it wasn't for the soreness and his shaky knees, and obviously Frank still standing there with his hand around his cock.

But, it was affection. And Gerard would take that where he could get it – and he especially loved it from the person he adored most.

*

The person he adored most passed worrying him and went straight to frustrating him – but Gerard tried to keep a cool head and not be so much of a bother. Frank was an adult, he could handle stuff, he knew how to be responsible and all that jazz. Basically, Gerard looked up to Frank thinking he was all but the only 'adult' figure permanently left in his life, along with some other stuff, so he must've had his shit together no matter how much it seemed like he didn't.

But despite that, Gerard wanted to step up and be the adult now, because y'know, maybe someone spiking their own coffee with alcohol isn't really a good sign of having their shit together. It was sort of like seeing your best friend doing something risky or destructive, or just really questionable. You wanna step in and tell them to stop, don't do that because you might hurt yourself, but at the same time you hesitate and assume that it's okay because they probably know what they're doing.

That, and Gerard didn't wanna make someone he loved like Frank angry. He didn't wanna get him agitated, especially not before the funeral. Eighteen years of fighting was enough.

Gerard wanted to do what he could though, subtly. Frank wasn't tipsy, he was drunk. Gerard offered to drive, and he thanked his lucky stars that Frank didn't turn it down. Of all the things going on that sucked, dying on the way to a funeral would probably take the cake there.

The day was sunny and warm, a pretty summer day where you'd lay in a meadow or sit in a tree reading a book, let yourself drift off in the breeze – it was gentle and light, a day you'd wear shorts and a sun hat instead of a black suit. It wasn't a day fit for a funeral. Gerard kept an eye on Frank in the passenger's seat – the drive was about thirty minutes, Frank didn't speak for the whole ride. He either looked out the window or straight ahead, looking like he'd rather be the one in that casket.

So, thirty minutes after setting out, Gerard was parking the car. Frank stumbled out of the vehicle, but he just insisted everything was a-okay and all system were normal to ease the worried look that had taken up permanent residence on Gerard's face lately. It didn't work, he still looked worried.

That was the biggest drunken mishap of the day, which was a relief. All the other little minor problems after entering the funeral home were the classic stares of two guys being 'together' together, and Gerard noticed a few people whispering. Frank probably didn't see it though, who knows what he saw or remembered. Sometimes his speech was a little slurry, he looked exhausted, and he just didn't seem to be quite all there. That was the only indication he was drunk. Maybe that's what a few of those whispers were about.

Frank was a happy drunk, and he'd sort of achieved his goal of numbing himself up for this – at least surpassing the lower standard goal of just getting through. But even his usual alcohol induced bubbliness and laughter just took a day off. He didn't cry, though. Not that Gerard saw.

Gerard didn't know what all Frank had bottled up under the surface and under the layers of alcohol-coffee, but it was clear to him that Frank was putting off going up to the casket. Gerard tugged at his sleeve in the direction of the casket, enough to get his attention.

"So, you going up there?" Gerard asked.

Frank flicked his eyes up to the casket placed at the front of the room, then down to the floor. He shook his head.

"No." Frank said, barely above a whisper.

Gerard looked at him, waiting for an explanation. Why wouldn't he go up? What was wrong?

"I can't." Frank's voice was small and shaky, "Please don't ask me to, Gerard. I can't."

Gerard didn't really understand his reasoning – not that he even gave one, really. But he knew, he knew to just let it go and not bring it back up. Frank had his reasons, whatever they were, and Gerard just had to understand that for now. He nodded.

"I'll stay with you." He replied.

Throughout the service, Gerard kept sneaking glances at Frank. His eyes were fixated on the casket and the body hardly visible in it – he saw a stranger, basically. What he could see of her, it just wasn't the Mrs. Kovlov he knew. She was gone, it was just a body and she was somewhere else. It affected him, it was uncomfortable to see but he couldn't tear his eyes away, he barely heard a word anybody said, he didn't bow his head in prayer.

Frank wanted to let go. The pain he felt took on different shapes, now it was a cold, dull ache in his chest. He didn't want to think about her anymore, he wanted to move on, just forget all about it and let whatever was going on inside be buried with her and stay there so it could never come back haunting him.

Being at the cemetery was worse than the funeral home, because as if it wasn't already real enough for him, seeing her casket being lowered really set it in stone. Frank could feel his pulse getting faster and the sting in his throat – he tried to look everywhere but at the casket, and seeing the rest of the people there – people she knew, people she loved, all of them crying, it was too much, and she was really gone.

*

The beginning of July should have meant new beginnings and happiness.

Gerard's new job started, a new ballet that ran for two weeks – performances on the weekends and twice during the week. The pay was decent – both of them were in luck that they didn't struggle financially. In favor of that, Frank's job as a sound guy ended and just as quickly as it was over, another was lined up. 

This is what Gerard wanted – it was falling into place, a life with time for Frank and their careers which were only growing bigger. The only downer was the triumphant return of Frank's depression in full force. He quit his job at the studio, he didn't need it and it was only taking a bigger toll on his mental health.

And just like that, something that meant so much to Gerard at one point was cut out of his life, there were no more ties to Mrs. Kovlov's studio and no reason to ever look back at it. He'd wanted to take classes there for years before he finally managed to talk his parents into it – then, he did the unspeakable right out of the gate. His technique improved, he met Frank, he had problems with the other students that caused so much worry at the time, but it was only that.

It was at the time, and now it was over. Something that meant so much to him and that seemed so huge was over before he could blink. He would never forget it though, how could he?

It was the reason he was where he was today. If not for Mrs. Kovlov and the opportunities her studio brought, he'd still be suffocating in his parents' house, stuck in the same repetitive lifestyle.

Sometimes Gerard expected the universe to just come up out of nowhere, wink at him and be like, 'gotcha' because of the drastic and positive change in his life. Maybe it was about to happen and it was just beginning in the form of Mrs. Kovlov – maybe the universe was the grim reaper of all things good, ready to snap it's fingers and make everything go to shit just like that.

Maybe it was that point in a horror movie where it's all quiet and dark, nobody's gotten brutally murdered in awhile and the villain might be dead and things are quiet, too quiet... And then there's a total blood bath. Totally legit possibility.

But Gerard was going to pause the movie before it got to the good part, focus on his career, focus on Frank getting better. Worrying about a future that might not even happen like that wasn't doing shit but bringing him down, so fuck that. There were enough problems, it was time to let them go. Maybe July would bring new beginnings and happiness after all.

Gerard and Lisa even agreed to meet and catch up.

In a week's time, their new jobs had started, and Gerard wasn't really sure when Frank was drunk and when he wasn't. Like, was he tired or drunk? Was his depression worse or was he drunk? Ray noticed, too, and he couldn't be completely sure either. 

Frank was distant. He didn't talk as much as he used to and he slept more. Gerard tried to be with him as much as he could when Frank was at home and awake. And if that wasn't happening, it's because Gerard was at the theatre. 

The night Frank got home an hour late without calling first was the tipping point, wasted out of his mind. Gerard could understand depression, but Frank screwing his life up like this wasn't acceptable, and Gerard needed to step in before it got worse.

"Where the fuck have you been!?" Gerard practically yelled at Frank, standing in the doorway. Gerard was worried sick about him and was almost crying. 

"Sorry," Frank slurred, "Just, just calm down, alright?" 

Gerard looked at him like, are you shitting me? He pulled Frank in the apartment by his wrist and shut the door, the sound rung out through the apartment.

"What the hell, Frank?" Gerard said, pushing him towards the couch. "What's going on?"

Frank shrugged and plopped down on the couch, "It's all fucked."

"That's not a fucking excuse!" Gerard said, his attitude was the exact opposite of Frank's laid back and drunken demeanor. "Where were you? Why didn't you tell me?"

Frank laid the back of his hand over his mouth, "I'm gonn-- aw, fuck."

"What?"

"Shit," Frank muttered, he stood up, wobbly at first and headed towards the back of the room – Gerard got up and followed. 

"Are you about to be sick?" Gerard asked in hot pursuit of Frank into the bathroom.

Frank dropping to his knees clumsily and gagging into the toilet pretty much answered his question. It made Gerard queasy.

"I want—" Frank was cut off by more gagging – Gerard winced, and busied himself with getting a washcloth and wetting it with cold water. Frank had ceased the vomiting, but he remained over the toilet.

Gerard got onto his knees as well, behind Frank and rubbed his back with his free hand.

"You're okay," He said soothingly under layers of doubt. "It's okay, Frank. It's okay."

"No," Frank said, coughing.

"Yes, it is." Gerard replied, placing the wash cloth on Frank's forehead.

"No," Frank repeated, "I wanna fucking die."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point the classic jam entitled 'The Middle' by Jimmy Eat World can be applied to the story, cause it just takes some time. everything everything will be alright alright.


	43. Instability

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, granted, I'm a very emotional dude but writing this made me cry, like, actual tears came out of my eyeballs.

Gerard's heart sank at his words.

"I hate myself," Frank continued – he was a mess, his speech was still slurry and his voice was starting to break. He turned around to face Gerard, back against the toilet – which, was not very sanitary but it didn't matter.

His hair clung to his forehead, partly by the washcloth and partly by sweat. He looked hopeless in Gerard's eyes – just, broken.

"It's not," A double breath cut Frank off, Gerard laid his free hand on Frank's knee. "Not even about her anymore."

Gerard gave him a concerned look and waited for him to continue. Frank shut his eyes tightly, tears seeped out.

"I'm fucking failing you." Frank cried, "You don't deserve any of – of this shit. Everything's just wrong."

Gerard pulled him closer and wrapped Frank in a hug as he started to sob – Frank hid his face in Gerard's chest, his fingertips digging into Gerard's back. He could feel Frank shaking, his crying muffled. Gerard kissed the top of his head – he regretted his initial anger.

Frank felt like Gerard hated him by now – he was causing Gerard to be unhappy, it was all Frank's fucking fault that he was dragging the person he loved down, too. It made him miserable. He noticed – even when he was sick to his stomach and half out of it, he noticed the difference in the way Gerard acted. Where did the giggles go? Where did the happy mornings go where they could lay in bed and talk about nothing? 

It was Frank's fault they were gone. He did this, he chose the path that was making him spiral down like this, and maybe it was too fucking late. He fucked up, and Gerard may never forgive him. How could he?

Gerard sighed. "You're not failing me." He said softly, "You have to talk to me, Frank – I can't watch you do this to yourself, okay? You've gotta tell me this stuff."

Frank didn't make any notions towards responding – Gerard didn't know if he'd calmed down, but he wasn't crying so hard anymore, save for a few sniffles. Gerard gingerly sat back and started to get to his feet, Frank hung back and kind of recoiled into himself, but Gerard tugged him up with him.

It felt hot and intense in the whole apartment, like the calm before the storm – Gerard pushed Frank's sweaty bangs back out of his face. He didn't look up at him, but Gerard could see how puffy his eyes were and the redness in his cheeks and the tip of his nose. Wordlessly, Gerard walked with him through the apartment to the kitchen.

"Just sit." Gerard said quietly, and pulled out a chair. He kept walking, over to the sink and Frank did as he said and sat down in the chair at the table. Frank felt empty and dizzy, he roughly wiped at his eyes – he didn't watch Gerard, but he heard him opening and closing a cabinet, turning on the faucet, and then he heard it being shut off.

"Your hangover's gonna be bad enough as it is." Gerard said, setting a glass of water down in front of him. Yeah, he was right – Frank let out a shaky breath.

"Thanks." He sipped the water, Gerard pulled out a chair and sat beside him.

The energy in the air was still unsettling, like there was something dark looming over them no matter how hard Gerard tried to keep calm for both himself and Frank.

"Frank," Gerard began, keeping his tone steady and calm. He'd seen his parents fighting, he'd fought with them too, and he wasn't about to go through the same kind of yelling again with Frank. "I don't know what you're going through, and that's the problem. You can't keep suppressing shit. I'm here, okay? I'm here whenever you need me – this is serious."

"What do I say?" Frank asked, his voice wavering. "What do you want me to tell you? I wanna fucking die, Gerard – I'm worthless, I hate this goddamn world and everything it does and I don't wanna do this anymore."

Gerard felt tears prickling at his eyes while Frank continued.

"All I ever do anymore is disappoint you," Frank got more worked up as he talked, "I just drag you down with me, you never asked for this. I'm supposed to take care of you! I'm supposed to be there for you!"

Maybe it's because it's what he was used to, but Gerard lost his temper at that. If Frank was supposed to be there then why wasn't he? What was his excuse – he'd rather be drunk?

"Then fucking be there!" He yelled – it stunned Frank into silence and it worried Gerard himself that he'd raised his voice like that. He didn't mean to do that and he immediately started to panic because he couldn't take that back. "You can't do this to yourself."

"No, you don't get it!" Frank argued, "I do this shit because I'm failing you! Everyday – everyday I see you upset and I know it's because of me and what I do, so what do I do? Whatever the fuck I can to not have to see it, I know I'm failing you, I know I'm fucking up but I don't know how else to deal with it! Maybe you'd be better with someone else – god, you deserve the world, Gerard, and all I am is a mistake."

Gerard's heart was breaking – he was crying all out because that's how he made Frank feel, and the thought of not being with him - of Frank not wanting Gerard to be with him, it fucking hurt. Another broken relationship, and he was sure Frank was the person he was supposed to love – it added to the thoughts he had of being unlovable, Tim's words still remained in the back of his mind.

"Do you want me gone?" Gerard cried.

"No," Frank said, his voice whiny, "No, I've never loved anyone like how I love you and I fucked up! I fucked up and I hate myself for it! I'm never gonna be good enough for you."

"Fuck you," Gerard said, his words were sharp. "Fuck you for thinking that – I don't want to be with anyone else, I loved you from the start."

Maybe there's no real happiness in the world - Gerard really wondered that sometimes.

"I want to fix this," Gerard said.

"If you had any foresight into this relationship would you even wanna be here?" Frank asked.

"Of course, Frank! I can't believe you fucking asked that!" Gerard replied, "I want this to work – I still wanna marry you!"

"How the hell can you even love me?!" Frank yelled.

"Shut up! And don't you fucking yell at me again." Gerard said. "I love you the same way you love me. I just do, there's no explanation." He paused to observe Frank. The love was still there, it never went away. Really shitty things just came into the picture along with it. "We have to fix this, we have to deal with it like adults and it can't be one-sided."

"I wanna get through it." Frank said quietly, "But I don't know how."

"Neither do I, but we'll have to figure out." Gerard replied. "You're not getting rid me of that easy."

Frank nodded and tried blinking away tears. "The day I met you, there was something about you – I don't know what it was, but you were so different from the rest. It's fucking stupid and cliche, I didn't know why I felt attracted to you or protective over you but it's like you said, there's no explanation." He paused. "I love you. I'm sorry, Gerard. Sorry I yelled, sorry I'm drunk – everything."

"Me, too. I'm sorry, too." Gerard said, sniffling.

"God, you don't deserve any of this shit." Frank sighed, trying to calm down. "I don't know what to do."

"Me either." Gerard replied. "This is my fault, too. I was afraid to do anything but I should've stepped in sooner, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault." Frank replied.

"Are we okay?"

Frank nodded, "Yeah." He got to his feet, keeping a hand on the table for balance, and held out his other arm toward Gerard – he stood up, the movement so abrupt he almost knocked over the chair, and hugged Frank. He could feel that Gerard had started crying again.

"I didn't mean to yell at you." Gerard apologized.

"You were right to." Frank replied.

*

They came to an agreement – communicate about everything, negative or otherwise, about each other or something else. Frank said he'd stop drinking before it became an addiction, but he was heavily depending on Gerard and Ray to hold him to that until he was back to normal, and Gerard suggested he go to therapy for his depression. Recovery had just begun – and as for their relationship, it would be okay. They couldn't stop loving each other if they tried.

It was about a week since the argument – Frank was getting better with plenty of help, which was relieving for everyone around him. He felt good enough to hang out with Bert and Ray again, and this time Gerard even played guitar – albeit kinda badly or not amazing in the very least, but nobody was complaining. The Used were still looking for that other band to tour with.

Of course Frank was still depressed, broken bones don't heal overnight, so how is depression expected to? He still felt empty and tired and guilty for no reason, but he was doing everything he could. He still slept a lot and his energy was down – he kept reminding himself that this would only last a few months, then he'd be alright for a few months, and then there was this to look forward to all over again.

But he allowed himself to get help this time, and for once he wasn't alone.

Frank and Gerard spent virtually the rest of July like that – getting back to what they thought was normal. Instead of being inexplicably distant, Frank would let Gerard know it's because he wasn't feeling up to talking, and Gerard understood – so he did all the talking for the both of them, and Frank gladly listened. Gerard managed to convince Frank to get that Halloween tattoo across his knuckles he'd been wanting, but never got because Mrs. Kovlov wouldn't like it. Now there was no reason not to.

Who knew a sincere 'how was your day' after getting home from work could mean so much? Or a kiss good night and good morning. They were back to being able to be in comfortable silences instead of the heated kind, and they both showed more affection to each other as opposed to the brief time before.

The later part of July brought the premiere of Frank's previous film – which, wasn't quite as upscale as the one before that, but it was still fun, and it ended on a genuinely happy note with the two of them going home early like before, but they didn't get drunk, not this time. Instead, it was just passion like they hadn't had since before the shower sex – it was slow and tender, intertwined with plenty of giggles and contentment.

The new ballet was going great for Gerard – it held a totally different atmosphere from the previous one, but it was just as good, and he met a guy who was pretty difficult to not like named Brendon – he wasn't much older than Gerard and the dude could fucking sing. They were friends pretty much instantly.

But just like the last ballet, Gerard made it more rigorous than it would have been by trying to go above and beyond, and with it came more back pain followed by more pain pills to counter it. Should he have told Frank about it? Absolutely. But did he? Fuck no. Gerard had it under control and the pain really wasn't that much worse than before, and Frank only asked that he tell him if the pain was worse, which it wasn't, so he opted to not say anything, and also to not bend over a lot before he'd taken medication, always just before a show.

Stability was the goal for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little short compared to the latest chapters but for some reason the chapter felt complete as is?? anyway updating sooner


	44. Time and Time Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I APOLOGIZE FOR THE LATENESS HOLY FUCK

AUGUST

"Frank!" 

Frank vaguely heard him, but he was still too asleep to comprehend why he was being woken up by Gerard and not the alarm clock. He did his best to mutter out something like a 'what is it?'

"Get up," Gerard's voice came again, less urgent this time. "We gotta go."

Go? Go where? It was too early for this – what time was it, even? Frank inhaled deeply and hesitantly opened his eyes, he felt a soft, familiar weight dropping down on him and it took a second for his eyes to adjust to Gerard's face a few inches away from his.

"What?" Frank squinted.

"Mikey! Did you forget he's getting married?" Gerard replied excitedly.

"Oh." Frank sat up. 

It came flooding back, life felt like a fast motion blur for him lately – the wedding was tomorrow but it was a day's drive to get there.

"Yeah." Gerard smiled, "Come on, get up."

Gerard started to stand, Frank grabbed his wrists playfully to tug him back down to his side, eliciting a startled squeal from Gerard which made them both laugh. Frank leaned over to kiss his lips sweetly.

"I love you." He said quietly, like the words were something private and special that only they shared.

Gerard smiled – that's the Frank he missed, the one that was getting better every day, the one looking at him sleepily but full of honesty, the one that he loved. So he told him.

"I love you, too." 

Frank kissed him again, and Gerard met him half way.

*

Coffee is magic, okay. It really is – and with great power comes great adrenaline rushes, as Frank learned that Friday. 

After the kissing, which resulted in quick hand jobs followed by the scrambling around, making sure they had everything they'd need for the short trip out of town, like clothes, toiletries, Frank brought a few CD's for the road and Gerard brought pain pills, but Frank didn't need to know about that. It was only for a 'just in case' situation.

They strode out of the lobby and into the parking garage – the energy was normal. 

That did not last long.

Maybe it was Gerard's leg bouncing repeatedly, enough to make the whole car shake – maybe it was his excessive chattering more-so than usual, or that he couldn't keep still and kept fidgeting in his seat. Gerard was filled with nervous energy and it was rubbing off on Frank.

It was understandable, though. Even without the extreme amounts of caffeine it would be totally normal to be jittery – Mikey was getting married, it was a big deal and it was great. The plan was to get there that evening, check into the hotel, and meet up with Mikey and Kristen – the four of them would probably go out that night if neither party were too tired, and, it appeared Gerard would not be having that problem.

Frank and Gerard had been driving for hours, the sky had the faintest tint of orange by now, and in agreement with the clock it indicated that they'd be there soon. Gerard's adrenaline had died down about an hour ago and he just watched out the window with the only sound being the hum of the car on the road.

Frank glanced from the stretch of road to Gerard and back to the road a couple of times. Gerard looked kinda zoned out, kinda like he was in deep thought, so Frank spoke up softly.

"What are you thinking about?"

Gerard shrugged, the gesture delayed. 

"Things are moving fast."

"Well, yeah. The speed limit seventy miles an hour." Frank kidded.

Gerard rolled his eyes. 

"No shit." He smiled, "But that's not what I meant."

Frank waited for him to continue, and Gerard shrugged again before he started talking.

"Things are really changing and moving fast, Frank. And that's scary to me, I guess." Gerard said, "It's just – with us and with Mikey and everything that's happened, I just kinda realized that shit keeps moving whether you're ready for it or not. It's scary to realize in a year nothing will be like it is now."

"Maybe that's a good thing." Frank replied.

"I don't know, cause things are pretty fucking good right now." Gerard said. He shook his head, like he was trying to shake a thought right out of it. "Just wish I could enjoy things now without thinking about it."

Frank took one hand off the wheel to reach out for Gerard's, and received it with a contented squeeze for having him close. It was reassuring that Gerard wasn't in it alone, whatever 'it' was. Life, dread, comfort, the vehicle – he wasn't sure, but it was alright.

There was more to what Gerard was looking out the window thinking, though. Along with the realization of the unstoppable future came ugly memories of the past. Who would've thought – a year ago he was a kid living with abusive parents and he hardly even realized at the time that what was happening was wrong.

He started thinking about his dad and the last memory he had of him. How do abusers manage to do all the shit they do, and in the moment make you hate them, but then they can turn on a dime and for whatever fucking reason they and yourself are able to deceive you into thinking it might not happen again. 

Being able to forget his dad and leave him in the past made Gerard unbelievably happy, but here he was remembering his dad again for one of the few times ever, save for the times when it was only his words lingering in the back of Gerard's mind, still making him feel like shit when he wasn't even around.

The son of a bitch went too far, Gerard knew that. He knew getting out was becoming one of the only options left, and Mikey was proof of that. As much as Gerard fought against accepting it, Tim was still out there. The last Gerard heard, the divorce was going okay. Stressful, but that's not uncommon. Tim was out there, and what were the chances of never seeing him again? 

Gerard didn't know, and the confliction started there. What if he never saw his dad again? How could he? How could he not? And what was the likelihood of either? It felt weird to consider any of it – especially the part that maybe it wouldn't happen again if he actually did see Tim sometime.

Besides that, Gerard didn't like hanging on to hate. Maybe it was better off to apologize and move forward to try and keep up with life's pace.

*

Frank could see that the caffeine had long worn off for Gerard. He was visibly tired when they got to the hotel which made for a pretty cute sight in Frank's eyes. Despite being tired, Gerard still wanted them to go out with Mikey and Kristen, so they did. Gerard was ecstatic to see Mikey again.

As if there weren't enough realizations for one day already, it was Frank's turn to have one. 

He was with family.

Mikey, Kristen, Gerard – he secretly wished Ray were there, too, then the family would be complete. Frank felt lucky, it made his heart soar that these were the people he belonged with, like it was always supposed to have been this way. Haha, this Way.

"What are you smiling at?" Gerard poked him in the ribs – they sat across the restaurant table from Mikey and Kristen.

Maybe reciting his exact thoughts for everyone at the table to hear wasn't the best idea ever, cause imagine saying that out loud. That's not the type of thing you say out loud.

"I'm just happy." Frank smiled. He was – he really was happy, despite everything that had happened. Things were looking up, it was falling into place and he was aware of it. Part of him wanted to latch onto Gerard forever and never let go, and the other part wanted to jump up and click his heels because things had turned around so smoothly in retrospect, and what went on before only made Frank appreciate being there that much more.

He stayed in this little impenetrable happy bubble all through dinner and the quick drive back to the hotel – the night was hot and even in the short walk from the car to the lobby was enough to make them uncomfortably warm. The cold blast of air sent a shiver down Frank's spine. Inside of the hotel was bright and sterile, Frank caught a glimpse of Gerard trailing just barely behind him – he looked tired, and it made Frank want to scoop him up and hold him tight.

Frank leaned in for a swift kiss on Gerard's cheek, and Gerard smiled as they stepped into the empty elevator. Frank pressed the number of their floor, and went back to peppering kisses on his cheeks and the tip of his nose as soon as the doors slid closed. Gerard giggled and scrunched up his face.

"That tickles." He said in between giggles.

Frank stopped just long enough to reply. "It's supposed to." He had a warm, happy feeling settling into his chest as he looked into Gerard's eyes, who looked back tiredly but content.

Gerard had done a fair share of remembering earlier in the day – he's mind still wasn't totally snapped out of reminiscing yet. He remembered one of the first things he liked about Frank, something he could never completely feel in his house.

And that was safety. Trust. Not being afraid to be vulnerable. He hoped he'd never take that for granted.

Frank placed one last kiss on Gerard's temple before leading him out of the elevator.

*

They definitely needed to shower before tomorrow, and to save time, they just did it together. Their hands were slick with soap, making the chaste touching a lot more fun. Gerard even tried to style Frank's mohawk into actual mohawk form – it looked good, and the soap suds only made it better. In turn, Frank massaged shampoo into Gerard's scalp – he noticed his roots were showing, a lot, but he didn't say anything. It didn't matter.

Like stepping into the hotel after being outside not long ago, stepping out of the shower and into the cold bathroom sent another round of shivers down their spines and goose bumps appeared behind the towels drying off their skin.

Gerard roughly towel-dried his hair as best he could while Frank slipped on a pair of boxers, followed by his shirt. Gerard hadn't made any advances towards getting dressed yet. It made Frank feel some sort of relief – Gerard wasn't in a hurry to cover up, he must not have been feeling as self conscious and his weight was still the same since he first noticed a change. 

He was even looking in the mirror now, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to smooth the remaining knots out.

"What if I dyed my hair black?" Gerard mused. He turned to face Frank, motioning for him to hand him his pajama pants.

It took a second for Frank to process that question, which was more of a statement, it was just seemingly out of the blue – or, well maybe it wasn't all that out of the blue, considering almost the first inch of it was back to brunette.

Frank tried to picture it – it'd be quite a change to his appearance, but definitely not a bad one. 

"I think it would suit you." Frank smiled, while Gerard pulled up his pants, then reached for his shirt.

He pulled it over his head. "Yeah?"

Frank nodded. "Definitely."

Gerard smiled.

After the long day he'd had, he was ready for rest, and nothing could beat the feeling of snuggling close to Frank and stealing his body heat. 

"Night, Frank." Gerard said, his voice muffled.

"Goodnight, babe." Frank replied.

Frank laid on his back, an arm protectively around Gerard while he had perfect access to Frank's neck, tiny puffs of his breath made Frank's hair stand on end. He pulled Gerard closer as he felt him begin to mouth at his neck.

Frank turned slightly to face him, bringing a hand up to Gerard's face and brushing it against his cheek with a feather-light touch, and bringing it down to grace across his shoulder and land on his side. Heat from the touch centered around Gerard's ribs and it made him feel warm all over, even more tired than before.

Gerard wrapped his arms around Frank's middle and pressed himself up against him, nuzzling at his collarbone now, and Frank moved his hand lower to Gerard's thigh, stroking it tenderly and inching closer to his crotch with every upward movement. 

The moment felt so slow, half lost in dozing off already and Gerard's eyes were closed for the night. Frank stayed more alert – just enough to be able to feel Gerard rocking his hips against Frank's thigh after draping a leg over his waist. Gerard gasped softly, his breath fanned across Frank's collarbones, and palming Gerard through the fabric of his Pjs was enough to make him climax.

His body tensed up briefly and he shuddered, squeezing Frank tighter before relaxing again. Frank closed his eyes stuck his hand down his own pants, and he was following right behind Gerard in a few strokes to his climax.

Frank kissed the top of Gerard's head, and even in his state of almost being asleep, he made a point to remember this moment before drifting off into comfortable darkness. Things were alright.

*

Gerard would like to imagine that, had he and Mikey known exactly what the next day had in store, he would've contemplated hanging out in the back and staying out of the way, at the very least. But that's only what he would've liked to imagine. It's not what happened, and if he had the foresight, it still wouldn't have happened.

Regardless, he wasn't ready for any kind of confrontation. But it always managed to happen time and time again – and maybe next time things will be different. For whatever fucking reason, maybe he was just deceived into thinking it might not happen again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY AGAIN FOR THE LATENESS AND I REPEAT, HOLY FUCK


	45. Anxieties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man okay first of all I need to start with a sincere apology for abandoning this fic for so long, and now I'm gonna try and save some face by expelling all this shit that's built up over the past however long it's been since a few chapters ago that you can totally just skip. Here goes.
> 
> This was the first fic I tried to write, inspired by super well known and amazingly written fics in bandom that sucker punched me straight in the feels – so naturally I wanted to have a go at being behind that type of emotional pain/joy and in short I went into this fic totally blind and having no idea how to fucking do this, and yeah, really fucking messy. 
> 
> On top of that, I've learned how to write better since January, and it's a little confusing here but basically I can see how poorly written and messy this fic is and rereading it I always cringe, so mentally when I try to write a new chapter I know it sucks in the back of my mind and you can literally tell that when you read it that there's no love behind it – the other fics I'm writing aren't like that cause they've been being written when I know more, I still have inspiration for those, but I lost the spark for this one, y'know?
> 
> I just started reading this other thing, it made me happy just to read because it was so well written and I was drawn in immediately and attached to the universe right off the bat and I took a small break from it and I had this realization – I can still make something out of TTUAD. I felt the same inspiration, the same spark, the same motivation for when I first started it and remembered why I wanted to write this specific story to begin with. 
> 
> Please forgive the rush of the mid/end of this chapter, it was the cause of the latest road block and in order to progress the story I'm kind of rushing that part (and I'm trying to rationalize it by abusing the power of the safety net called 'first draft) so I can get to a new place in the fic, a new beginning, and a way to re-start this and make it /better/. Maybe not good yet, but again, first draft. Maybe the next and final draft will still suck but one thing it'll have that makes it better by default, and that is passion to make it the best it can be.
> 
> All that I just wrote most likely won't matter to anyone but it feels real fucking nice to be able to write out. And it'll be gone next draft, and if anyone reads the fic then it may as well have never existed, y'know? But the point is that, again, it feels real fucking nice to be able to write out and if there's anyone keeping up with this fic (thankyouthankyouthankyou) that's the long winded, 6 paragraph, unneccessary in the long run explanation which is, in the words of the great Fall Out Boy, more than you bargained for.
> 
> tl;dr, sorry, learned my lesson, haven't given up on the fic, when it's re-edited and condensed it will be better but for now here's the experimental first draft stuff as per usual with just slightly better, motivated writing.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, [graveboyy](http://graveboyy.tumblr.com/)  
> I SO HOPE YOU ENJOY

There was excitement, there were nerves, there were tears, joy, tears of joy – that was the wedding day. That day was today. The suits were fucking itchy and the dresses were uncomfortable, but that was alright. 

"Ready to go?" Frank asked, starting towards the door in anticipation of a 'yes.'

Gerard and Frank were up way early at the hands of the alarm clock, and had proceeded to go about their usual morning routine in record time, but in a jittery cold sweat – especially Gerard, and if he was feeling like that, he didn't even want to think about how Mikey was feeling.

"Almost." Gerard replied.

He followed Frank to the door, moving in close to readjust his crooked tie. 

Frank was hyper aware of the sparkle Gerard had in his eyes today, the nervous energy he carried – obviously excited for Mikey, he thought as Gerard's fingertips brushed against his chest. It was short lived, but the tiniest actions, like Gerard readjusting Frank's tie, made him continuously fall deeper in love with Gerard, and maybe the best part of it was that he was free falling. 

No apprehension, no fear – and no parachute, cause he wasn't planning on ever landing.

"Earth to Frank." Gerard said, pulling Frank right out of his thoughts and back into the hotel room.

His tie was adjusted and Gerard was looking at him curiously, but with his lips upturned slightly. Frank had been staring.

"Sorry." Frank apologized, "I was thinking about something."

Gerard raised an eyebrow.

"A good something or bad something?" He inquired. "Cause I know that look on your face when you're purposely being vague – typically to save my feelings but if there's something wrong you need to tell--"

"Gerard," Frank interrupted his ramble, which was another thing that indicated his nerves. "It was definitely a good something – I would tell you if it wasn't. We're past that." He replied with a reassuring smile.

Gerard nodded swiftly.

"Okay." He said, punctuating it with one sharp nod. "Okay. Come on, we've gotta get there early so I can see Mikey."

Frank stepped out of the way of the door and turned to open it, hand on the doorknob when Gerard spoke back up.

"Frank?"

"Yeah?" Frank turned to face him again, and was greeted with a short but sweet kiss – way too short.

He held onto Gerard's hips before he could back away and pulled him in closer, Gerard got the hint and met Frank half way with another kiss – never able to get enough, never able to be close enough. Frank deepened the kiss and Gerard kept up, getting rougher and more desperate, partly thanks to be so anxious, until they're both grasping at each other. Frank's hand brushed over Gerard's crotch and tugged at his pants.

Gerard's lips still touched Frank's when he stopped kissing him long enough to say, "Do we have time?"

Frank could feel his lips becoming just slightly puffy, courtesy of the roughness. He dragged his lips down to Gerard's jaw and a placed another kiss there.

"Plenty." Frank replied.

*

So maybe quick handjobs weren't the best idea. Gerard had a pretty obvious hickey forming already, and Frank would not and could not let his mind wander onto the topic of what Mikey was thinking about now. Anxiety's a bitch, Frank's plan was to hang near Gerard as much as he could, but for now he was in the lobby of the venue by himself, giving Gerard some space to be with Mikey for awhile.

Then it would be time for the actual wedding to start. In the meantime, while he waited in the lobby, Frank was thinking. Planning ahead, anticipating, expecting. At some point, he would have to be introduced to people, and it was a total mystery as to how that may go over.

"Frank." A familiar voice stated.

Frank's attention snapped up, to his left – oh, boy.

Lisa crossed her arms and smiled at him. She looked different than the last time Frank saw her. She was wearing more makeup for the event, obviously, and dressed up. But it wasn't just that, something about her aura. Her face appeared more youthful – something the makeup couldn't have achieved.

"Mrs. Way." Frank said, his tone slightly startled.

"I believe I asked you to call me Lisa, yes?" She smirked.

Frank's face lifted into a smile, out of habit and out of relief that Lisa was in a better mood than Frank had ever seen, and that was just a little formidable.

"Know where I can find Gerard?" Lisa continued.

Frank nodded toward a vague direction, "He's talking to Mikey. They've been up there for awhile."

"I see." She nodded. "If you happen to see him before I do, I would appreciate it if you let him know his father will be here after all."

"Okay, yeah. I will." Frank replied. "How is that going, by the way – your divorce?"

"It's wrapping up in my favor." Lisa smiled pleasantly. "God, you don't know how glad I am that my boys are old enough to not be involved in it. And moved out, so they didn't have to be around it, either. However, I suppose it's too late to try and hide the ugly truth from them."

Her gaze landed on a figure walking up behind Frank before he could speak. He didn't have time to turn around before hearing the person's voice.

"Hey, Mom." Gerard greeted, immediately going for a hug. "Miss you."

Frank's mouth twitched downward – they loved each other, that much was evident just in the way Lisa squeezed him and rubbed his back. Frank blinked hard and swallowed a lump in his throat at the reminder that he didn't have a mother – and oh, how he missed her. Both of them. 

If only his real mom – wherever she may be, if she was even still alive, could have had the chance to meet Mrs. Kovlov.

"Miss you too, honey." Lisa replied.

They pulled away, and Gerard stepped back alongside Frank. There was the brief moment, and even that was far too long, filled with distress and panic after Gerard stepped back, when Lisa saw the hickey. Frank knew she saw it, Gerard knew she saw it, and Lisa knew that they knew she saw it, and it was like finding the fucking condoms all over again, goddamnit. Absolutely mortifying.

Lisa cleared her throat. "Your father will be here."

Out of the corner of his eye, Frank could see Gerard's jaw clenching, and Frank went into overprotective boyfriend mode, except less douche-y than you'd imagine by that general statement and more of being supportive and there for him.

*

Frank was sure Gerard was going to explode from nerves while they waited around for another ten minutes, more guests were arriving and Gerard pointed out from afar who some of them were, talking quickly all the while and bouncing his leg so hard Frank worried it might fall off.

The time finally fucking came – time to be seated, the wedding was about to start.

The place was elegantly decorated, but not over the top where it felt like you couldn't breathe for knocking over something expensive. Pastel blues stood out against whites, making for a cute scene. 

Guests were seated first, family went in last to the front row. Tim showed up at the last minute. Because of the seating, he didn't actually see Frank, but Frank saw him – shit. That man had seen better days, like the last time Frank saw him, for example, but there was no room in Frank's heart to pity what he'd brought onto himself.

Big crowds of basically strangers and anxiety don't mix, and having a metaphorical safety blanket helped, like that friend you follow around all night at a party. Except Frank's safety blanket was on the front row – as far away from his dad as he could be, Frank kept a close eye on it.

If not for the issue of Frank technically not being a family member, he'd be up there for both his and Gerard's sake in a heartbeat. But there was that, and the fact that he was a stranger to these people.

But still, Gerard glanced back at him and flashed a cute smile which eased Frank's nerves.

Turning back around, Gerard's eyes landed on the officiate – she stood still, scanning over the crowd with her hands clasped together. The murmurs of the guests weren't that loud, and they stopped instantly when the back doors opened again – this time for Mikey. Possibly the most handsome groom there'd ever been.

He had a lightness about him walking down the aisle, like some kind of energy radiated off of him and into the room, putting a smile on everyone's face and brightening up the room with his presence. He looked happy, which is an understatement, yet he stayed controlled, projecting calm.

At the alter, Mikey glanced to the front row, and his closed-mouth smile got a little wider. He looked to the officiate and in return she nodded softly at him. 

It was silent in the room until the doors reopened to the ring bearer and flower girl.

Mikey's heart was about to beat out of his chest in the best way possible.

The officiate glanced to the guy at the organ, signaling for him to start playing, and that cued the bride.

The doors opened for the last time, and Kristen walked through, arm in arm with her father – clearly someone Frank had never seen before. She looked beautiful, and maybe like she was crying, but it was hard to tell.

Her father carefully placed her hand in Mikey's before he sat down, presumably beside his wife.

Mikey and Kristen shared this look – holding hands, before the officiate spoke up again. There are short-lived moments when you get sparks. Thousands of thoughts compressed down to a couple of seconds, little ideals that, for such a short instant, let you feel something, let you see some type of inspiration or hope of what you want, what you can do – hope of what can be.

Sitting in the pew, seeing the joy in Mikey and Kristen's eyes and the outcome of such a pure love, made Gerard experience one of those moments – of what can be.

Maybe Frank was thinking the same thing a few rows back – Gerard hoped so.

The officiate spoke, saying the vows and having Mikey and Kristen repeat them back. Gerard tried to burn every detail into his mind – even the part where Mikey got choked up, which in turn affected the audience, too.

"I do." Mikey said to Kristen.

"I do." She repeated.

The officiate smiled. "You may now kiss the bride."

People cheered, Gerard didn't realize he was blinking back tears of happiness for them until he looked over to see Lisa doing the same thing.

*

Next was the reception – Gerard and Frank had managed to leave the building without Tim noticing them, he'd hung back in the crowd and disappeared to somewhere else, not that Mikey and Gerard were at all complaining.

After Mikey and Kristen had left hand in hand down the aisle and the guests were free to leave, Gerard went back to Frank. The first thing Frank had asked was:

"Are you crying?"

Gerard nodded. How could he express so many emotions to explain it right then and there? He couldn't, so he didn't. It was for another time.

"Happy tears, though." Gerard replied, "Let's go before my dad catches up."

The reception passed by quickly – first, kicked off with a first dance which just a really mushy, sweet moment. 

It went smoothly. No accidents or incidents, and Frank could safely use Gerard as a safety blanket. Tim, for whatever reason, wasn't there throughout the whole thing. 

The weird and awkward introductions to Gerard and Mikey's relatives weren't nearly as painful as Frank feared they could be. Confused squinting and slow nodding, like you're trying to swallow a lot of information were common reactions, followed by just being kind of put off by them learning Gerard had a boyfriend.

It was totally weird and the last thing Frank ever saw himself doing – but while Gerard and Mikey were whisked away by relatives and Frank found alone, Lisa became his go-to person, and what's weirder? He was becoming less intimidated by her. Frank smiled to himself. 

Progress. So much fucking progress.

Everyone seemed genuinely happy – especially the new Mr. and Mrs., and nobody got cake in their face after the cake cutting. That was wildly relieving.

A few of the guests went home, some stayed to party, albeit a tame party at that. 

Nerves were finally gone, tension was released. The atmosphere became breathable again, and relaxed.

It didn't hurt to say goodbye to Mikey this time – there was some type of unspoken and mutal assurance between him and Gerard that things would be okay this time. The world wouldn't go to shit when Mikey had to go back to his life, it wasn't a permanent goodbye until half a year later with only texting to bridge the gap until they saw each other again, because life changed over the summer, and it changed for the better.

Right then, things were better – that's how it needed to stay.

The party pretty much stopped when Mikey and Kristen left, as did most everyone except close family – all that was left was the clean up, and Lisa had told Gerard he didn't have to hang around if he didn't want to. 

But he did, because this new Lisa was something Gerard rarely ever got to see, and from the looks of things, this was her now. This was Lisa being herself, for once, with nothing weighing her down or stopping her from doing so. She was fun to be around, even if there was a hickey staring her right in the face.

In talking to her, Gerard lost track of Frank's whereabouts, and Lisa excused herself to the restroom, leaving Gerard alone for a second. It was a good opportunity to check up on Frank, and Gerard was just about to go look for him when a figure walking up from the hall caught his eye, and when he saw who it was his blood didn't turn cold, his breath didn't hitch, there was only the familiar dread of 'here it comes again.'

"Hey, son." Tim smiled, "Missed you."

Gerard didn't know what to say, so he didn't. He couldn't bring himself to nod, but he was afraid of what might happen if he didn't.

"You miss me, too?" Tim asked.

Gerard nodded that time, trying his best to not look Tim in the eyes. He felt guilty, for whatever reason.

"I can't hear you, Gerard." Tim continued.

"Missed you." Gerard said, hardly above a whisper.

Tim smiled at his response, and pulled him in for a hug – Gerard felt like a ragdoll, and like he was transported back to all those times after a fight when he lived with Tim and Lisa, when Tim would try to make up – it was all so pathetic and it made Gerard's skin crawl. The familiarity of Tim made the absence feel like it never happened, like Gerard never left home and like he never went for months without seeing him.

"My boy." Tim said quietly, pulling away. "What's going on? Where'd you go?"

He still had a smile plastered on his face, and Gerard couldn't tell if he meant it or not. Like always, Gerard didn't want to open up, he didn't want Tim to know any personal details – especially not in light of recent events. In Gerard's eyes, Tim didn't deserve to know.

Before Gerard said anything, he remembered Tim didn't know about him and Frank, and he was fairly sure he hadn't seen him today.

"My friend." Gerard replied. Well, it wasn't a total lie.

"Someone I know?" Tim asked, still keeping calm.

"You've met him." Gerard stated.

Tim nods. "Damn kind of him to take someone like you in."

Gerard tried to hide it, but a confused expression still briefly crossed his face, and Tim saw it.

"You know you're a spoiled brat." Tim clarified with a chuckle. "Got everything you ever wanted – roof over your head, food at the table, you got to be homeschooled, your dance lessons, when most kids your age don't even have a car, but you got that too. I didn't have to do any of that for you."

Gerard's anxiety was through the roof – he didn't know how to reply to that, it made him feel awkward and somehow worse about himself. What if he really was spoiled? What if everyone thought that about him? 

"Thank you." Gerard replied.

"Yeah." Tim nodded. "I do all of that cause I love you more than anything else in this world."

Gerard looked him in the eyes and forced a smile during Tim's pause.

"Well, did." Tim began, "I did all of that until you left me. Throw a temper tantrum and just leave like a spoiled brat after all I did was love you and your mother. Don't even care about me anymore, do you? Cause you didn't get your way?"

"No," Gerard shook his head, he didn't want to apologize, despite the immense guilt. "That's not what happened."

"Yeah, it is. Don't try to lie about it now." Tim said.

"It's the truth," Gerard defended, "I'm sorry, Dad."

Tim crossed his arms and sighed, "You left because you stopped getting your way. But that's enough, I had to live through it once, don't make me go through it again." Tim looked down, thinking about a way to change the subject, then back to Gerard, swiftly looking him over. "You look different. Still dancing?"

"Yes, sir." Gerard replied, his voice quiet again because he knew what Tim was implying by 'different'.

"Still taking classes?"

"No."

"You not good enough?" Tim asked casually.

"Couldn't afford it." Gerard replied, feeling a pang of hurt like the night he and Tim fought all over again. "And Mrs. Kovlov's gone."

Gerard didn't look at Tim. His words hung heavy in the air until Tim broke the silence.

"You ever think about coming back?" Tim asked softly.

"I can't." Gerard replied.

"You're picking some friend over me?" Tim scoffed, "Your own dad?"

"I'm sorry." Gerard said.

Tim nodded. "Me, too." 

Gerard could tell just by the tone that his apology was backhanded. Behind Tim, Gerard caught a glimpse of Frank. He looked back to him when Tim's eyes were downcast – Frank looked angry and concerned. Tim noticed Gerard looking over his shoulder, he glanced back and saw a familiar face, and the pieces of the puzzle fit together seamlessly.

Tim looked back, his and Gerard's eyes met and Gerard could see how hurt he was – or wasn't. Gerard didn't know, and that was the killer. Tim knew, Gerard knew that Tim knew. A whole three months were explained without a word.

"I see how it is." Tim said, and before Gerard could stop him, he starting walking away.

"Dad." Gerard called after him, not even sure if he wanted Tim to come back, but he didn't acknowledge him. He kept walking.

Tim disappeared from sight through the doors, leaving Gerard feeling like he'd fucked up.

"Hey," Frank's voice caught his attention, he put his arm around Gerard protectively. "What did he say to you?"

Gerard shook his head, but Frank continued to look at him, waiting for him to say something. 

"Doesn't matter." Gerard replied, leaning into Frank's side.

"It does." Frank said.

Gerard shrugged. "Later."


	46. Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr for updates and stuff, [graveboyy](http://graveboyy.tumblr.com/)  
> Hope you enjoy!

Later never came. Gerard didn't bring it up again, and Frank knew better than to pester him.

Over all, that day wasn't remembered for Tim – that day was remembered for Mikey and Kristen. Proof that the universe isn't entirely as fucked up as it seems sometimes, proof that good things happen, and they happen no matter what you've been through or where you're going. 

Some people would call it a blessing, other's would call it karma – whatever you see it as, the world's not as demented as bad times lead you on to believe, and maybe happy endings are real.

A weight was lifted that Gerard didn't even realize he carried – loose ends were tied with Tim, fucking finally. Life was moving on, it was a breath of fresh air and September was looking up to be a promising month.

Every day, Frank continued to get better. His jobs weren't scarce, and from him, Gerard got word that Ray had been hired for his biggest movie yet. Mikey just got married to the love of his life. The divorce was wrapping up in Lisa's favor, as she said. And with all those simultaneous blessings, the current situation couldn't have been any better than it was.

An unbelievably fortunate series of events had fallen into place for Gerard, life was nice again, always awakening every morning with a sense of comfort – gone were the days of waking up and having his metaphorical bubble of happiness burst at the too sudden realization that Frank was drinking the night before, that Tim was pissed off at him again, that Lisa couldn't give less of a shit if she tried, that Gerard was stuck without a voice to call for help. 

Those days were memories. And now, waking up to his best friend every day was the cherry on top.

SEPTEMBER

Not having a mom-figure to check up on still took getting used to. It was weird that a huge chunk of Frank's life was gone over night – a chunk he'd never get back but would give nearly anything to have one more day of, just so he could say goodbye like he fucking should have been able to.

But he had to move forward, push through the sadness, push through the guilt and constant missing of her. He had to move forward for himself, for Gerard, for their life together and for Mrs. Kovlov's sake, cause Frank knew she'd sternly but lovingly scold him for moping around and nearly destroying his life over something he couldn't change – and he'd feel a twinge of pain at the memory of her, accept that's all she was now, and remember what Gerard had said last month about life moving on whether you were ready for it or not.

Frank took it one day at a time, working to regain control over his life, and so far, he was doing okay.

Settling into routines helped. Calling Gerard on the way home from the days Frank worked was routine.

Home.

The word reverberated in Frank's mind as he lifted his phone from the otherwise empty passenger's seat, where it had been tossed carelessly earlier.

A word with a different meaning to every person. For Frank, it was reassuring to be able to say it and mean it – home. To mean that he was well off and had a place of his own which he shared with a tiny family of one, to mean that he had everything he could want there, that it was a place of familiarity and comfort. 

And, it also kinda helped him feel like he had his shit together.

"Hey." Frank smiled with the phone pressed against his ear. "Have a good day?"

"Yeah," Gerard replied, "I had a productive day. Oh – I've gotta go by the theatre tonight, last minute dress rehearsal because somebody fucked up the lights."

"Oh." Frank squinted.

"Are you on your way here?" Gerard asked.

"Mmhmm," Frank glanced at the time, 4:30. "Around ten minutes out."

There was some kind of variation of a muffled 'oh shit' coming from Gerard's end of the phone, and Frank's immediate reaction was also 'oh shit.'

"Everything okay?"

"Everything is just fine!" Gerard assured, a smile evident in his voice. "Don't worry, Frank."

What a time to be stuck in traffic.

"Well, I kind of am worrying." Frank replied, already beginning to fidget.

"Don't." Gerard said, "I just – you'll see, okay? I've gotta dry my hair, so I'll see you when you get here." 

"Still worried." Frank added.

"Don't be." Gerard repeated. "Drive safe, love you."

"Love you." Frank replied just before Gerard hung up.

Well, shit. Way to blast a hole through the stability and normalcy – even better, the impending doom welling up in the pit of Frank's already-anxious-enough stomach as his mind drowned out all logic and went straight for the worst case scenario.

Gerard was cheating. He set the apartment on fire. He irrationally bought eighty dogs. Or he bought eighty dogs with the guy he was cheating with and they all set the apartment on fire together and were waiting now to laugh at Frank when he showed up. 

But maybe the latter was unlikely.

He'd be finding out in eight minutes. Eight excruciatingly long, drawn out, endless fucking minutes, spent restless in the car and resisting the urge to speed every time traffic finally started fucking moving.

Eventually, his apartment building was in sight. The parking garage was empty enough for an okay spot, and Frank walked maybe a little too quickly with his sweaty hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans through the lobby, the elevator, and down the hall.

Of course he was overreacting – but tell his fucking anxiety that.

Deep breath. He unlocked the door and stepped in, letting it shut behind him – loud enough so Gerard definitely heard it no matter where he was in the apartment, and right now, he was nowhere to be seen.

"Gerard?" Frank called, stepping away from the door to the direction of the bedroom.

He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of Gerard appearing in the doorway to the bedroom, hesitant and timid, with freshly dyed jet black hair.

At first, Gerard looked clearly worried and kind of bug-eyed at Frank's reaction, that he just might hate it because all he was doing was standing there unmoving, looking like he was trying to process it or think of some kind of easy let down alternative to 'buy some more red hair dye pronto.' 

When the corners of Frank's lips started curving up into a smile, Gerard let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he smiled too, out of relief.

Frank crossed the room over to him and the first thing he did was reach out and touch his hair, gingerly tucking a strand behind Gerard's ear before breaking into laughter.

"I thought you had like, set the apartment on fire or something." Frank smiled.

"Um, no. Surprise." Gerard shrugged, unaware of his blushing. "I got dye on the sink, though. Sorry about that."

"That's alright."

"So, you think it looks okay?" Gerard asked.

Frank nodded. "It suits you."

Gerard smiled and took a step back, turning to the closet. "Thanks. I'm gonna get dressed – I've gotta leave in a little bit."

"Can I drive you?" Frank asked, leaning against the doorframe.

"Yeah, sure." Gerard said.

"Hey, did you eat dinner already?" Frank asked.

"No," Gerard replied, searching through his side of the closet, "I'm waiting til after rehearsal so I don't feel sluggish. But why don't I take you out afterward?"

"Sounds good to me." Frank smiled.

*

Frank pulled into a parking spot near the front of the theatre and shifted gears into park.

"It shouldn't take too long," Gerard said, "Maybe an hour or two. Three at the most."

"Three hours," Frank smiled, "That's not long at all."

"Oh, come on," Gerard replied, opening the car door, "You know how these things go."

"I get it," Frank said. "I'm just kidding."

Gerard stood up, opening the door to the back of the car to get his bag from the seat. He leaned back in the passengers side to speak to Frank.

"It really shouldn't take that long, though." 

"It's alright. Go," He motioned with his head, "Don't be late."

Gerard nodded, and closed the car doors.

It was business as usual in the theatre – get back stage, warm up, and hurry up and wait until it was time to go on.

A few of the other dancers and some of the technicians nodded politely at Gerard as he made his way back to the dressing room. He could blend in here, but it wasn't the same as being invisible. He was part of something – he belonged. 

And that was something Gerard tried so hard to never take for granted – not that it was difficult, seeing as how he couldn't even get used to it yet. 'It' being exactly where he was supposed to be, doing what he was meant to do, and be able to _live_ on stage. Not exist, not go through the motions, but truly live.

There was nothing else like it.

A few dancers were in and out of the dressing room, chatting with their friends as Gerard set his bag down on the counter. First thing was first – pain pills, so they'd have enough time to kick in before going on stage.

He unzipped the bag and reached in for the pill bottle, unscrewed the lid, and heard a couple of voices behind him saying 'hey Brendon', and Brendon's voice saying 'hey' back. Gerard turned around, dumping out a few pills into his hand then bringing it up to his mouth in time to lock eyes with a shirtless Brendon Urie – Gerard wasn't even fazed.

"Gerard!" Brendon's voice echoed, "I like the new color on – whoa there," His eyes cut down to the pill bottle in Gerard's hands, "Aren't you too young to have all those aches and pains?"

Gerard shrugged, failing miserably at being casual and awkwardly dry swallowing with a grimace.

"Just extra precaution, more or less." He replied.

Brendon crossed his arms and nodded, but he didn't look too convinced – kind of perplexed, actually.

"So, sore muscles, joint pain, or?" Brendon trailed off.

"Back pain." Gerard said honestly, screwing the lid back on the pills as he talked, and setting them aside, "Doesn't bother me with pills."

"That's good. Just gotta watch out, y'know. Keep that under control." Brendon continued, "This one girl I used to know developed knee problems pretty early on in her career, but it took awhile for it to cause like, serious damage. She ended up having surgery on it."

"Is she okay now?" Gerard asked.

Brendon shoved his hands in his pockets and looked down as if to remember. "The surgery would've fixed it, but she went back to dance with a vengeance even though the doctor told her to take it slow." He looked back up to Gerard. "I still talk to her sometimes." 

Gerard nodded uneasily, despite wishing he could shut everything Brendon was saying out – it was a different situation, that's what he had to tell himself. And, he was keeping it under control, just like Brendon said.

Brendon spoke up again, kind of staring down at the floor in his own little world. 

"She can't stand being around it anymore – dancing, show business. I know she misses it. Too many memories, I guess." He shrugged, "Anyway, I'm bumming you out."

"No, you're fine – just," Gerard mumbled. "It's under control."

"Gotta keep it that way, man." Brendon said, "See you later."

*

A few dancers exiting the building caught Frank's eye, he checked the time. It had been over an hour, rehearsal was probably over. Soon enough, Gerard came out too – catching Frank off guard only briefly at not seeing red hair. He smiled to himself absentmindedly, and unlocked the doors in time for a sweaty Gerard to pull open the passenger door and get in, tossing his bag in the back.

"Hey." Frank smiled.

"Hey," Gerard said, already reaching to turn the AC on. "Fuckin' hot in here."

"Sorry about that," Frank said, shifting into reverse and backing out, "How'd it go?"

"Pretty well," Gerard replied, "The lighting department got their shit together, and we're all set for tomorrow."

"Well, good." Frank said. "So, where do you wanna go to eat?"

"Wherever." Gerard replied, running a hand through his sweaty hair to get it off his forehead.

"There's this one place that, uh-" Frank trailed off. 

Gerard looked at him, concerned. 

Frank sighed. "My aunt and I - before she died, we went there a lot."

"Sorry." Gerard said quietly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," He nodded, "I haven't thought about her in awhile."

Gerard bit his lip. "Can I ask you a question? You don't have to answer."

"Go for it."

"Do you miss your parents?" Gerard asked.

Frank didn't take his eyes off the road or even react at all. An uncomfortable silence filled the car, with traffic being the only other noise. Gerard looked out the window, assuming Frank wasn't going to respond.

"Sometimes." He said finally, Gerard's attention snapped back to him. "I can't see myself ever going back to them, though. I don't know if I'd want to."

"What are they like?" Gerard asked.

"Homophobic. I mean, they kicked me out just for being gay." Frank began, "And it was hard getting along with them sometimes. They wanted me to be someone who I never could've been. But that was only because they wanted the best for me – go to college, be a fuckin' doctor or whatever and get married, have a family and a nice house with a white picket fence. That wholesome image cliché. I'd be in college right now if it went the way they wanted." He concluded with a chuckle.

Frank sighed and glanced over to Gerard, patiently listening – he flashed a smile to him.

"But on the other hand," Frank continued, "I miss having parents. There's no one to go to anymore, and for the first time in my life, I'm on my own. And I'll probably be fine, I have you – but it's such a scary concept to be thrown into without even having some kind of heads up first."

"Do you think your parents still live in the same place?" Gerard asked.

Frank shrugged, "I don't know – I don't even know if they're still alive."

"You've still got their number though, don't you?" Gerard said.

"Yeah," Frank replied, "What are you hinting at?"

"You should contact them." Gerard stated. "Really."

"I don't know about that. If they wanted to have any sort of relationship with me, they probably would have already done something about it."

"Maybe that's what they say about you." Gerard said.

"And they'd be correct." Frank replied. "They don't want me, Gerard."

*

Gerard was twenty minutes out from performing, and Brendon's words from yesterday were still fresh in his mind. That lead him to the decision of not taking pain pills for this performance – it was a test. Just to see how bad his back would hurt, just to prove to himself that it really wasn't a big deal and what he'd said to Brendon about extra precaution was the entire truth.

He wiped the sweat from his palms on his pants again, willing his heart to quit beating that fast, willing his legs to stop shaking, because he shouldn't be this nervous. And the fact that he was didn't do anything but psych himself out.

So when he went on stage twenty minutes later, he tried to ignore how jittery his arms were and hoped the audience couldn't see it. He brushed off the fear he had every time he landed a jeté and his knees felt ready to give out over the nervousness. He talked himself out of the sick feeling, forgetting that this was the first time he'd ever felt that on stage.

The blinding lights were, for once, judging him, waiting on him to fuck up instead of showcasing what he could do. The music mocked him every time he was a count behind, and that was something that never happened. 

It never happened because he was never in pain. This was never supposed to happen, and it was consuming every thought he had when his mind should've been on the choreography, not the pain in his lower back that started as a dull reminder that something was up.

It progressed into a spike of mild pain if he bent it just a little too much. 

By the end of the night, his breath would hitch if his back wasn't straight while he walked quickly and directly to the dressing room, needing to be alone for a second. Process it. He stood leaning over the counter, head down and bracing himself with one arm with the other pressed against his lower back. Sweat dripped from his forehead, he panted, his whole body was cold.

"Shit." He muttered to himself.

"What's up?" Brendon asked from the doorway, catching Gerard completely off guard and causing him to flinch, and that only caused another spike of pain to shoot up his back, hitching his breath.

With something clearly being wrong with Gerard's pained expression and how he grasped at his back with both hands now, Brendon instinctively rushed over.

"Are you okay?" He asked before Gerard had a chance to reply.

"Yeah," Gerard breathed, steadying himself against the counter, "I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Your back, right?" Brendon asked.

Gerard looked up through strands of sweat-soaked hair and nodded.

"I thought you said that was under control – this doesn't look under control to me." Brendon said.

"I'm okay, Brendon. I swear." Gerard insisted.

"Then explain this," Brendon asked, motioning towards Gerard, "Huh? Explain why you're obviously in pain."

"It's fine, okay?" Gerard kept on, "It's nothing."

"That's what my friend said. Don't be like her, man." Brendon said, "I can fucking see how much you love this shit." 

Voices echoed in the hall followed by a group of dancers entering the dress room. Brendon moved in closer and lowered his voice.

"You're one of the best performers I've seen, you can't end up like her."

Gerard didn't say anything, he focused on catching his breath, not letting the hot tears he felt prickling at his eyes escape. 

"Gerard, listen to me." Brendon began in a serious tone, still keeping his voice low. "This is your back. This is serious shit, you need to go have it looked at cause you don't know what's wrong with it. You could've slipped a disc, cracked your spine, or like, got a pinched nerve – you don't know. You don't know if it's something serious. Shit, you could end up paralyzed. You've got a boyfriend, right?"

"Frank." Gerard stated.

"Does Frank know?" Brendon asked.

Gerard nodded.

"Does he _really_?"

Gerard hesitated. "He doesn't know how bad it is." 

Brendon opened his mouth to argue, but Gerard cut him off.

"But neither did I – I didn't know til tonight that it had gotten this bad."

"Tell him," Brendon said, "Tell him and see a doctor."

*

Gerard couldn't get to the car fast enough, which proved a challenge with the pain taking away his breath without fail if he made one wrong move. Getting into the car was the worst part. Looking over his shoulder before changing lanes even hurt, and by the time he was in the hall walking cautiously to the door of the apartment, he'd already rehearsed what he was going to say about twenty times.

Seeing Frank smiling at him stepping into the apartment allowed for a few seconds of relief, and then came the dread of knowing what he was about to say again and the challenge of not letting himself cry while he said it.

Gerard would cry out of fear, out of worry, over not being able to deny or run away from the issue anymore.

Frank sprung up from where he was laying on the couch to an upright sitting position, shaking out all the sleepiness from the dozing he'd been doing.

"Hey! I think I was falling asleep." Frank smiled. "Come here."

Gerard crossed over to the couch, his heart pounded harder. Tonight should've been like any other night – come home to Frank and exert the remaining adrenaline, spend the rest of the night with soft touches and content kisses until their eyelids became so heavy that they'd finally relax cuddled close to each other and fall asleep.

It shouldn't have been this.

"I need to tell you something." Gerard said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the story is outlined from here I'm v excited.


	47. I Suck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every time I start writing this my back flares up again and I wish I was fucking kidding, it hasn't hurt since September, this fic is cursed. anyway, this is super short but I just wanted to hurry and post it
> 
> tw for suicidal stuff?
> 
> [graveboyy.tumblr.com](http://graveboyy.tumblr.com/)

Frank furrowed his eyebrows, instinctive worry setting in immediately. He was pretty good at that by now, worry was a go-to, second nature kind of thing if something was vaguely negative, and that was definitely a vaguely negative statement. Frank had known Gerard long enough to be able to distinguish his tired face from his about-to-cry face, and Gerard wasn't tired then.

"What's wrong?" Frank inquired, Gerard walked slowly to the couch. It was taking a decade for him to answer – if he didn't say anything in two seconds Frank would panic. He was too quiet, carried too dark of an essence. 

Gerard went over what he wanted to say again – he couldn't word it right, and it didn't even matter when he opened his mouth to speak, because he forgot what he'd planned to say and it all came out impromptu with his voice cracking at the beginning.

"I've just got a really awful headache, and I fucked up on stage a lot tonight, and tonight just generally sucks because of that." Gerard replied, eaten up by guilt and fear and hate towards himself, that he was too much of a coward to come clean despite knowing what was right and despite Brendon's words repeating.

_He could end up paralyzed._

Frank's face fell, he held his arms out to Gerard for him to come closer and sit down, and he did, really stiffly.

"Everyone has bad days." Frank said as he pulled Gerard to him and wrapped him in a hug. Gerard shook from crying under his grasp, so Frank squeezed tighter and kissed the top of his head. "It'll be alright. C'mon, let me get something for your headache."

Gerard could barely stand to look Frank in the eyes for the rest of the night, but he talked on like usual, offering support and comfort and fully buying into Gerard's lie. Well, it wasn't a lie, his head did hurt – it just sort of wasn't the whole truth. It made Gerard sick to his stomach all night, he suggested Frank go onto bed without him because he was gonna be awhile scrubbing off all the makeup and dried sweat, so Frank reluctantly agreed being none the wiser.

Besides, Gerard's anxiety wouldn't have let him sleep anyway. Instead, he took a few too many pain pills, even after the ones for his headache, but it was probably alright because he'd built up a tolerance for them, and he soaked in the tub while salty tears mixed with the steaming hot water, because no matter how hot and burning it was, it wasn't soothing the pain.

Gerard cried into the palm of his hand, half out of it and zoning off somewhere, breathing deeply proceeded by bursts of double breaths bordering on hyperventilation. His hands shook. He stayed on edge in fear that Frank would walk in and see him like this. Part of him wanted to wake Frank up and confess, the other part wanted to sink into the water and fill his lungs full of it.

So he slid down until the water lapped at his eyes.

Then he slid deeper until his head was completely submerged and it left the tops of his knees sticking out into the cold bathroom and a chill went down his spine. It was so quiet, the world was muffled in darkness and weightlessness, and soon it was like there was this pressure pushing onto Gerard's chest. Then it burned, and he habitually almost took a breath. But this was almost what he thought being dead was like, it just wasn't as cold as he'd imagined. 

More like being asleep, except it wasn't as stuffy, and it was more intense – but he could feel himself zoning again and his lungs were still burning.

Then he heard a distant noise, but it wasn't important. It got louder, Gerard kind of woke up and became aware of the ache in his lungs and he pushed himself back up, surrounded by freezing cold air and sucked a huge, relieving breath back into his lungs as water poured off his head.

"What the hell are you doing?" Frank asked from the doorway.

Gerard coughed and glanced over in time to see Frank, messy hair and all, kneeling down to his level looking concerned. Gerard tried to speak, but he just coughed again, and more hot tears slid down his face. Frank reached out and brushed the hair clinging to Gerard's forehead back and tilted his head up.

"What's up with your pupils?" Frank blurted, "Gerard, seriously, what's wrong?"

"Sorry." Gerard managed, he looked away from Frank and wiped at his face.

"Hey, no," Frank pulled Gerard's hand away, "Look at me. You're acting weird, tell me what's going on." He studied Gerard's face – his eyes were red and puffy, his pupils oddly constricted yet he didn't seem to be solidly focusing on anything and he tried to look away from Frank. "Are you on something?"

Clearly incoherent – to a mild degree, at least, Gerard shook his head 'no'.

Maybe it would be for the better, Gerard thought, if he kept it a secret that he almost drowned himself. He pulled it together enough to insist that he was fine and shooed Frank out, got dressed and drained the tub. Everything was dulled and in slow motion, but at least his back didn't hurt. He appeared in the doorway to the bedroom to see Frank, still wide awake, still worried, and insisted again that everything was alright.

"See?" Gerard slurred, "I'm just fine. I'm tired, but I'm just fine."

If nothing else, sleep came easily.

*

Although Gerard woke up feeling epically fucked, Frank didn't pester him about it much, and that had to count for something, right? In the coming weekends, Gerard stayed afloat on painkillers and dodged every run-in with Brendon at the shows he could. 

Things worked. This system Gerard had going of not almost overdosing and drowning worked. It wasn't enough to fuck him up but it _was_ enough for the pain to be minimal, because he had to get through the next couple of weekends, at the very least, until this show ended and he had a break.

But Gerard was fucking stubborn.

The shows ended, he said his goodbyes to all the new friends he'd made, and went home with Frank that night who repeatedly congratulated him, and the next day, he was riding a high like, 'yeah, I survived those shows, so I can survive more.' And he immediately pushed his luck looking for more auditions against his better judgement.

He went to several though, and for once in his life wasn't one of the best in the room, mostly because of all the years they had on him. Their stares were cold and Gerard found himself tearing his eyes away awkwardly and looking down at the floor. Most of them were strangers to each other, but they all broke off into their own cliques, except Gerard, on his own again and intimidated, and for once, didn't even have anyone give his dancing a second glance.

"I don't know what's wrong with me." Gerard admitted to Frank across the table.

Frank shrugged, "You're probably just psyching yourself out because of one bad audition."

"Yeah," Gerard muttered, exasperatedly running a hand through his hair, "Probably. Or maybe I'm just not good enough."

Frank sighed.

"Cause God knows my parents didn't give a shit about training no matter how much I begged them to let me enroll in better studios when I was a kid." Gerard continued – Frank caught his careful wording of 'better studios', silently thanking him for not mentioning not Mrs. Kovlov's name even if he did already know what he meant. "Or maybe I just really do fucking suck."

"You've got an audition tomorrow, right?" Frank interjected.

"Yeah."

"Then tomorrow you can prove to yourself that you don't suck." Frank replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god. I'll have it updated again soon.


	48. Indifference

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the story is really moving along now. the next chapter is gonna be here fast, it's pure fluff though, nothing else, and after that exciting stuff starts happening again

**OCTOBER**

Standing in the audition room trying to blend with the other stone faced, fit dancers, what Frank said about Gerard psyching himself out proved to be more than true with his legs shaking and his palms cold and clammy. Gerard was no more than a nervous kid who didn't even look like he belonged there anymore, and his heart pounded faster when no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, his nervousness wasn't going away.

He glanced around the room at the other dancers stretching and warming up, clean cut, relaxed, slender and muscular, and then he'd look at the mirror-wall in the front of the room and see some pale loser whose hair fell in his face and whose stomach was world's away from being rock hard. Gerard slouched further, looked down at his jittery hands and told himself that this was ridiculous, that five months ago he would've killed this audition and he's only gotten better since.

So when the time came, he went all out, got way too nervous, and as a result, his name wasn't mentioned for a call-back and he left the audition with a bruised ego and an equally as bruised tail-bone.

*

"Hey." Frank smiled at Gerard, still sweaty and carefully sitting down in the passenger's seat of the car. It was one of those rare times when Frank was available to pick him up, and it couldn't have been a worse time. "How did it go?"

Gerard exhaled hard and slammed the car door closed. "I fell on my ass." 

The anger in his tone caught Frank off guard and made what he'd said take longer to process. Gerard looked out the window with his head propped on his hand, Frank took a chance in speaking even though Gerard's aura screamed to be left alone.

"It's not the end of the world." Frank said calmly, "I'm sorry it happened, but it'll be alright and you'll get more auditions, trust me. You're one of the best."

Gerard tipped his head back and sighed, "You don't get it." He paused, "This is bigger than just getting turned down. I've been turned down for stuff like this before, okay? Yeah, it sucks, but it happens, and this _isn't_ the same thing."

He scanned across Frank's concerned expression. "This is my entire life." Gerard continued, "It's not just a little bump in the road, this is me, getting more and more fucked with every botched audition and it's screwing with me and it's gonna take so long to get over whatever this is. This is my job, it's my career, and I just blew it for the fifth time in a row!"

"Maybe you're just burnt out." Frank suggested. "And maybe the solution is just taking a week or whatever off to relax and get out of your head."

Frank shifted gears to take off from the parking lot when Gerard didn't answer right away. He looked back out the window, with any hope he was thinking it over and taking it into consideration.

"I can't." Gerard replied.

"Why not?" Frank asked.

"Cause dancing is all I do." Gerard began, "It's the only thing I know, it's what I've done since I was eight years old, and I can't afford to put it on hold for a week. You know dancers, Frank. You _know_ that if I don't stretch for a couple of days I'm gonna be making up for it for weeks! I can't just stop like that."

Frank bit his tongue to prevent an argument and reminded himself that one of the reasons he liked Gerard so much in this first place was because he was so strong-willed.

"Your mom texted me." Frank changed the subject, "She was trying to get ahold of you."

*

All Lisa wanted was a day to catch up since it had been well over a month since she'd seen Gerard and a few weeks since the divorce was over. That was fine, nothing could go wrong with that, so they planned a time over the weekend and Gerard asked Frank to go, too.

Lisa was early, as usual, and she greeted Frank and Gerard with a genuine smile before they sat down at the restaurant. Phone calls only eased Gerard's mind so much when it came to Lisa's wellbeing, and being able to see in person that she was alright, that her whole essence was lighter and less burdened couldn't have been more relieving.

"I'm really glad to see you, Mom." Gerard said, surprising himself with honesty, "How've you been?"

Lisa smiled, "I'm well." She said confidently, "Your father found an apartment and we're _both_ doing well. How have the two of you been doing?"

They briefly glanced at each other like, are you gonna answer or am I? Are we gonna be honest or say everything's just dandy?

"Pretty good." Gerard replied, and Frank nodded for reinforcement like two middle-schoolers having each others backs to cover up a white lie.

"Getting better every day." Frank added.

She appeared to fully believe it, "That's great! And Gerard, you look very nice. I think black hair suits you." Lisa said earnestly, "You look healthier, too. Did you finally gain some weight?"

Frank's eyebrows quirked up and he looked over to Gerard, jaw clenching, visibly let down by what Lisa said.

"Yeah, I guess." Gerard said quietly, and Lisa could see immediately that she'd messed up, glancing frantically from Gerard to Frank, and now all she could do was try to save face.

"Oh, no honey," Lisa said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that badly, your cheeks just look brighter and fuller, is all. You look good!"

Gerard just nodded in reply and looked down, slouching and forcing a smile, "Thanks."

At least the rest of the day only improved from there. Later, Ray called and asked if Frank and Gerard would like to come over and hang out with him and Bert for awhile tomorrow, and they took them up on the offer.

The evening kind of filled a hole and served as a night of laughter and happiness surrounded by friends that everyone needed, even if Gerard didn't seem as into it as he normally would have, but more disconnected or distant with forced or delayed laughter, and how he was never the first one to speak up. 

It was around ten at night when Frank and Gerard got back to their apartment after a silent car ride. They stepped into the elevator alone and Frank saw it as an opportunity to talk to Gerard about it while he couldn't walk away.

"Are you feeling okay lately?" Frank asked softly, "You've seemed really bummed."

Gerard crossed his arms and nodded, "Yeah, I'm just," He trailed off when he almost said he was worried about his back and stumbled across words trying to find an alternative answer, "Just concerned about some stuff that's not really important, I guess."

Frank breathed a sigh of relief that he was actually getting somewhere. "What kind of stuff?"

"I don't know, _stuff_ ," Gerard said irritably, "It's nothing. So drop it, okay?"

Frank squinted and looked at him like, whoa, excuse _me_. "Okay," He hesitated, "I can't help if you don't tell me."

The elevator dinged and a couple of elderly strangers got on, creating an awkward heated silence between the two of them that lasted until they reached their floor and Gerard walked ahead of Frank to their door, leaving Frank trailing behind and replaying the conversation.

Inside their apartment, Gerard wordlessly disappeared to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed without so much as a glance in Frank's direction. Frank didn't intend to mope, but he found himself standing there in the middle of the living room wringing his hands, going back and forth with himself on whether or not to confront Gerard again or stay out of his business.

Before anxiety could eat him up, Frank put himself to work with dusting off the cabinets, wiping down the counter, and unloading the dishwasher to put the dishes back where they belonged. In the middle of it, Gerard re-emerged into the kitchen, dressed in pajamas and carrying the smell of toothpaste which made Frank realize how late it was and that he should've be getting ready for bed, too. 

It was quiet other than the clinking of dishes and the traffic outside. Gerard brushed against Frank affectionately, putting his heart at ease that there were no hard feelings from earlier, and Gerard started helping him with the dishes.

After the last one and Frank shut the dishwasher is when Gerard finally sighed.

"Sorry." He said quietly, "I didn't mean to get defensive earlier."

"No," Frank leaned against the counter, "I shouldn't have been pushy."

Gerard half smiled and barely breathed out a laugh and said, "You weren't being _that_ pushy. You were just trying to understand and I shouldn't have reacted like that."

Frank smiled softly and wrapped his arms around Gerard, and kissed his lips lightly. "It's alright."

"You're not mad?" Gerard asked.

Frank shook his head no, letting the tip of his nose rub against Gerard's, making him giggle and kissing him again. "No." Frank replied.

Gerard smiled warmly, and the two kissed again – and again, until they ended up getting lost in it and Gerard didn't know how long they stood there, regretting his snapping at Frank from earlier and wondering how he ever could have done that to someone he loved so much and who only ever loved him in return. He pulled back slightly and, in the spur of the moment, said quietly against Frank's lips, "Let's get married."

It came as a jolt to Frank being so out of the blue. "One day." He replied. Gerard pulled back farther to look at him.

"I'm serious." Gerard said.

"Yeah, I know." Frank said, "Some day we will."

Gerard shrugged, "I mean," He paused, figuring out how to word it right and Frank looked at him curiously. "If we're gonna stay together and do it some day anyway, why can't we just go ahead and do it?"

"Well," Frank began, unsure of himself, "I get what you're saying."

"But," Gerard added, because he could see where this was heading. Frank stepped back and propped against the counter.

"But," Frank continued, "Maybe we should just wait on marriage for a little while. We haven't even been together for a year, y'know?"

"Yeah, but does it matter?" Gerard asked.

Frank shrugged, because yeah, it did matter. But he didn't know how to tell Gerard that in a way that wouldn't upset him or where he wouldn't take it wrong.

"So basically what you're saying is you don't know if it'll work out?" Gerard said.

"No, I never said that," Frank defended, "I just think maybe right now we don't need the added stress of planning and having a wedding, and like, it really wouldn't hurt to be a little more financially stable, either. Not to mention, you're eighteen. And I'm only turning twenty-one this month."

Gerard looked down and nodded slowly, the corners of his lips twitched down and Frank wished he could take his words back. Gerard crossed his arms and still didn't look Frank in the eyes.

"Kinda failing to see why that actually matters." He stated.

Frank sighed and scrubbed at his face – he thought better than to say what was on his mind, that Gerard not seeing why it mattered proved his point, but it would basically be adding insult to injury and Frank was going to avoid accidentally causing more damage than he already had.

"Whatever." Gerard said coldly, "I'm going to bed."

Frank stood in the kitchen, unmoving, watching Gerard trudge through the apartment to the bedroom, too up in his head to follow behind him. He couldn't say anything right lately. Gerard would take it the wrong way or he'd disagree and get frustrated, resulting in him either walking away, just like that, or shutting Frank out and not speaking.

He was less open, and even when he was present in the room, something was missing, from the disappearance of casual touches, lingering glances, to most conversations only being carried out by Frank.

Frank flipped the lights off on the way to the bedroom, finding Gerard laying facing away from Frank's side of the bed, and the whole time Frank was changing clothes or walking in and out of the bathroom, he never acknowledged him, but instead stayed with his eyes closed or looking at nothing in particular.

Frank carefully got into bed with the hope that maybe things would be better in the morning, and just before he closed his eyes, he heard Gerard speak up.

"Do you think we rushed into this too fast?" He asked, partially muffled.

Frank didn't respond right away. The answer was yes, he knew that, but he couldn't say that.

"It didn't feel too fast then." Frank replied. "But I love you with all my heart. Nothing's ever gonna change that."

"I love you, too." Gerard replied. "I'm gonna take a short break from dancing – just for a week."

*

For the first few days, Gerard spent his time in a personal hell, holed up in their apartment, unable to function, constantly fatigued and tired. He would look at the TV screen, but never actually see it. He would get up to do something and be too drained to do it. He would scan across words in books and reread pages again and again, and nothing stuck.

It had been awhile, but he rummaged through the dresser and found all his art supplies with this being the only other thing he knew to do except sleep. Gerard spread out some markers and pens on the kitchen table and started scribbling. It didn't take much energy or focus, but the more he drew, the more invested he became in it.

Frank called to say he would be home later than usual and Gerard picked up the phone, blinking hard to get rid of the blurry vision from staring down at paper for most of the day. Frank had made plans to see Ray and he shouldn't be more than two hours.

*

"Is Gerard doing alright?" Ray asked from across the table in the bustling coffee shop, "He didn't seem like himself the other night."

Frank shrugged, propping his elbows on the table. "I don't know what's going on."

Ray squinted at him. "What do you mean?"

"It's been weird lately." Frank replied.

"Well," Ray urged, "Spill it."

Frank leaned back and sighed, "There's friction. I don't know if he changed or if I did or if we both did. You know I screwed up a few months ago, you were there with a front row seat. And we had a fight – which was the reason I stopped drinking. We worked it out after that and things were fine again, but I don't think we ever went back to how it was before." He paused, "And a few weeks ago, Gerard started acting differently. At first it was like he was hiding something, but now he's just distant. And like, we don't even get along, and I don't know if it's something I'm doing or saying to upset him or if it's something else because he won't talk to me about it. I still love him more than anyone, but it's like we're not even on the same wavelength anymore."

Ray nodded slowly. He pushed a few strands of curly hair out of his face and sat back in thought, arms crossed and squinting up at Frank. "You need to tell him that."

"I've tried."

" _Did_ you try?" Ray asked, "Or were you all 20-questions and then just gave up when he didn't respond to you? Don't sugar coat it, man. But don't be a dick to him, either." 

"He'll just walk away!" Frank replied.

"And you really think you shouldn't follow him or show at all that you're concerned?" Ray continued, "Cause that probably tells him you don't really give a shit."

"I don't wanna upset him anymore than I already did." Frank explained.

"So instead you want him to walk away with his feelings hurt and not try to make that better at all?" Ray said, blasting Frank's mind with consistently good arguments, "I'm not trying to tell you what to do in your relationship, okay? You're my friend, I want things to work out for you. But I know you. Are you putting Gerard on the spot with constant questions or are you bothering to show him you actually care about him? Cause I know what you do when you have a problem, you zero in on it and nothing else until you have answers."

*

Frank took Ray's words to heart. He didn't ask Gerard out of place questions and tried to carry on like usual, not that Gerard acted much differently than before. Frank could've screamed, he could've cried, he could've dug his own grave and nose-dived into it, because nothing he did was working and living with the tension of someone he loved being so cold with no explanation was a crushing weight on his chest and constant ache in his temples. 

Coming home one day to learn that Gerard's father tried to get in touch with him didn't surprise him. It _did_ concern him that Tim's excuse for calling was to wipe the slate clean and start again. It broke Frank's heart that Gerard said he was considering going back and reconnecting with both of his parents.

"Oh," Gerard added, standing up from the couch. "And I have an audition tomorrow."

Frank squinted up to him, "I thought you were taking a break."

"Well, it's been a week tomorrow." Gerard replied. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"No." Frank said. He sat up a little straighter and furrowed his eyebrows. Gerard crossed his arms like it was a boundary and looked at Frank with indifference. "Why do you have to be so..." He trailed off.

"So?"

"So cold?" Frank said, half aware that he was going against everything Ray advised. "All the time now. I can't say shit to you, it's like you hate me. Do you? I rarely see you smile anymore, you're always acting so miserable, and honestly? I'm afraid to touch you anymore because you'll snap or hate me even more than you already seem to do."

"You're so self-centered." Gerard stated.

"What did I say?" Frank asked.

"You're acting like it's all about you!" Gerard replied, gesturing towards Frank.

Frank stood up and Gerard backed away from him, "I just wanna know what I did wrong to you."

Gerard rolled his eyes, "Do you ever stop with that? What's wrong, what happened, what did I do, are you okay?" He repeated, "And just accept that no, I'm not, and for once just stop. Just fucking stop. Maybe try actually _being_ there instead of trying to force everything out and mending the wounds with half-assed words. Maybe I wasn't ready to tell you what was wrong and all I wanted was for you to be there to fucking hold my hand while I dealt with it. You literally made this into something by yourself."

He stopped to look Frank up and down, give him a chance to say something, but he continued to glare at Gerard, so Gerard kept talking. "At first, it was just a bad day and then I started going through some shitty stuff, and it sure would've been nice if you weren't making me feel like I was under a microscope, like I couldn't do anything without you treating me like I was gonna break. And guess what? It was useless. You may as well have just ignored me the whole time. I don't know if you can tell, but life really sucks right now. I've been about two seconds away from hanging myself from that ceiling fan for the last week, but you wouldn't know that because you _haven't_ been there."

"I'm _always_ here for you." Frank argued. "Fuck this. This is fucking ridiculous." 

"Wow, screw you." Gerard retorted, "You aren't even sorry."

"Neither are you." Frank said. "I guess you're too used to always being the victim to realize you're capable of hurting people, too." He tilted his head to the side, waiting for Gerard to say something nasty back, but he didn't have anything left to say.

"I'm done." Gerard threw his hands up, "I love you too much for this, I'm obviously fucking up your life and I don't wanna stick around to keep you pissed all the time, especially not pissed at me, because I can't deal with that anymore."

"You're done?" Frank echoed, "So that means you're packing up all your shit and going somewhere else, right?"

His words struck like a dagger and it was the first time Gerard felt tears welling up in the whole argument. Frank wanted him gone. Reality crashed down that Gerard didn't have anywhere to go, and the silence hurt.

"I will if you want me to." Gerard said softly, he couldn't look Frank in the eyes anymore. He suddenly shoved past Gerard wordlessly and he didn't bother to look back and see what Frank was doing, but jumped when the bedroom door slammed shut.

He fucked up. He pushed Frank away, and it was over. Gerard's cheeks burned and hot tears fell down his face, his throat closed up and he sobbed – it didn't even matter if Frank heard him. Gerard wiped away tears and snot with a trembling hand. 

It was a sharp pain right through his heart, it made him unable to think or breathe – and all he could do was cry his eyes out into his hands.

The bedroom door opening startled Gerard, he turned to see Frank, first noticing that he'd put on a jacket, he was wearing shoes, and he was holding his car keys, and Gerard's heart skipped a beat.

"Let's go." Frank said, walking straight to the door.

"What?" Gerard managed.

"Come on." Frank replied.

*

Frank didn't say a word from the lobby to the car, nothing indicated where he was going this late at night or what he was doing, and Gerard kept his mouth closed the whole car ride. His stomach was in knots and at this point he was drained, he closed his eyes and spaced out, paying no attention to where they were going or how long it took to get there.

Eventually, the engine shut off, and Gerard forced himself to open his eyes. A small portion of the city glowed and lit up the clouds in the sky in front of him. It was quiet and peaceful, Frank had parked on an overlook, no one else was around.

"My aunt used to bring me here." Frank said quietly, looking straight forward. He was silent for awhile, it loomed in the car and made Gerard feel like he couldn't move. He stole a glance out of the corner of his eye to Frank, completely still aside from the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. "I never meant to upset you. I _am_ sorry. And I guess you're right that I haven't really been there – it's part of the reason things haven't been working between us. This is such a mess." He concluded with a sigh.

Frank turned his head towards Gerard and he quickly averted his eyes, looking at the window instead.

"Do you wanna break up?" Gerard asked.

"No." Frank replied, "Do you?"

"Yeah." Gerard said, "I do if we can't get along."

"Please look at me." Frank asked, and Gerard complied. Even in the dark, Frank could see the streaks where tears had run down his face. "I'm so sorry. Sorry for not being there. I didn't know what you were going through, or what happened a few weeks ago, or if any of it was because of me or something else. I still don't know, you haven't told me."

"No, I haven't." Gerard said quietly. "It's like I told you earlier. It started out as a bad day, and it turned into this."

"And that's all on me." Frank stated.

"Not all of it," Gerard said. "I'm so scared that I'm turning into my dad. He would shut me out and be cold all the time for no reason, and leave me wondering what I did wrong. That's what I was doing to you, and part of the time it was intentional. So I'm sorry, too, for everything I did. I just want to stop being angry. Just forget these past few weeks ever happened."

"Me, too." Frank agreed, "And I shouldn't have snapped at you earlier."

"No," Gerard said, "It felt good to yell." He smiled softly, and in turn, so did Frank, cause yeah, it did feel pretty nice to let out the tension.

"When I said we should wait to get married," Frank began, "Why did that make you so upset?"

Gerard tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and shifted in his seat to face Frank. "Because with everything that had been happening," He said, "It kind of made me feel like you didn't love me as much anymore. That's pretty stupid, right?"

Frank shook his head, "I understand. But that's not at all what I meant. We're just," Frank paused, eyes scanning across the city again, "We're so fucking young. And we didn't even know each other existed, what, eight months ago? Besides, marriage will never dictate how much I love you."

"I get your reasons," Gerard said, "Doesn't mean I agree."

Frank could tell by the tone in his voice that he wasn't hurt this time – he looked over, and Gerard offered a quick smile.

"Some day, Gerard." Frank said, "I mean that."

Gerard nodded and unbuckled his seat belt. He reached over and wrapped Frank in a tight hug, and Frank squeezed back to some of the only contact they'd had in a few weeks. Neither ever wanted to let go, but Gerard pulled back and kissed Frank's cheek.

"I miss you." Frank said.

"Yeah," Gerard said, "I'm so over all the arguments. I can't do anything about depression, but there were plenty of other things I could've done. Are we good?"

"Of course we are." Frank said.

Gerard smiled, and awkwardly got up, turned around in his seat and reached out to tug Frank's hand, "Come on." He said, climbing over into the back seat.

"What are you doing?" He asked, unbuckling his seat belt and letting it flop to the side.

"Shut up and come find out." Gerard replied.

Frank laughed, and clumsily did as instructed. He went with the flow as Gerard pushed him down across the seats and straddled him, not letting him move, and even in the dark there was a glint in his gorgeous, large eyes looking up at Gerard.

So Gerard leaned forward and kissed him gently, dragged his lips across Frank's soft skin and to his neck, and Frank held Gerard close to him with chills going through his body as Gerard trailed his hand down and to the button of Frank's jeans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you think of this chapter! lots of stuff happened. the rest of it's all planned but I'd really love to know what you think about the direction of this chapter and where you think it's gonna go from here!  
> [graveboyy.tumblr.com](http://graveboyy.tumblr.com/)


	49. Contentment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, holidays suck. anyway, added a little more to this chapter than planned /because/ of the wait and also for the plot's placing. still really fucking short though, don't you just love how messy first drafts are? anyway, still not a crucially eventful chapter cause the last couple were heavy.  
> didn't spot any triggers.  
> [graveboyy.tumblr.com](http://graveboyy.tumblr.com/)  
> hope you enjoy!

Frank and Gerard drove home in pure silence the next morning, just as the sun was coming up. But this time, the silence was entirely different – instead of being the calm before the storm, it was the sunny morning after when you walk outside to look at the damage, hear the birds singing and see flowers blooming bright and beautiful and being so relieved that the storm was finally gone.

For once in a long time, they walked hand-in-hand through the lobby like the first time they were there together, and it took Gerard down a sickeningly sappy memory lane of back then when sneaking off with Frank gave him an adrenaline rush because he knew if his parents ever found out, they'd kill him.

Frank leaned casually against the wall in the elevator, Gerard's eyes were drawn to the little smile on his perfect, pink lips like he was trying to conceal it, and if he looked long enough he could see where Frank's lip used to be pierced, just like his nose and ears. His hair was shorter then, too, and now it was wavy, falling over his eyes and making him appear more effeminate than before.

Gerard brushed against him to get his attention and Frank looked up, and smiled at him sleepily like he had earlier in the morning when they woke up stiff on top of each other in the back seat of his car. 

"I missed you, too." Gerard said, and just as the elevator dinged and they walked off, Gerard's eyes went wide with realization, "Oh, fuck, I have an audition later!"

"When?" Frank asked.

"Like, twelve. What time is it now?" Gerard said.

Frank pushed the apartment door open and shrugged like, fuck if he knew. Both their phone batteries died last night and he didn't think to look at the clock in the car. "It's gotta be around seven." 

"Yeah." Gerard replied and smiled faintly, "So, we're good." And Frank nodded in agreement, closed the door behind them, and leaned up to give Gerard a smooch on the cheek.

That set the tone for their morning – they cooked together and sometimes Frank would pull Gerard away from what he was doing to kiss him and leave him wanting more, so then Gerard would have to get back at him and slap his ass when he wasn't expecting it. That resulted in name-calling and more kissing, and somehow in the midst of all of it, they only managed to burn two pancakes.

It wasn't hard for Frank to notice that Gerard didn't appear as nervous today like he had before other recent auditions. He never trembled, spaced, and his hands weren't clammy.

"Is your back better?" Frank asked casually from across the kitchen table, "You haven't mentioned it for awhile."

Gerard kind of nodded and said, "It's hard to tell cause I haven't been pushing it."

"Whatever you do," Frank said, "Don't let it get bad, alright?"

"It's alright, Mom." Gerard kidded, "I know."

Frank rolled his eyes – and Gerard seamlessly changed the subject.

After breakfast, they showered together, and by then it was time for Gerard to start getting ready to leave – throwing the adhesive tape, band-aids, bobby-pins, and pain pills into his well worn bag, and start stretching. 

Just like he warned Frank, it was more difficult to stretch after a week long break and Gerard only wished he could be made out of elastic. He'd be making up for this for the next few weeks, at _least_ , but on the bright side, he hadn't been so energetic in a long time.

So with another swift kiss on Frank's lips, Gerard was out the door.

*

**NOVEMBER**

Traffic buzzed like usual on a Saturday night, and Gerard was just glad he had a short drive home from this theatre. The AC blasted despite how cold it was outside, and he ran one hand through his sweat-soaked hair, the other hand on the steering wheel, and stared ahead at brake lights.

Whatever kind of bad luck he'd had, it seemed to be over after he had one of the best auditions of his life. Maybe Frank was right when he said he was burnt out – but Gerard had a different theory, that maybe he had been letting all the stress get to him and fuck with him to the point of jinxing himself.

Tonight's performance went well, it was the third one from this show, and Gerard was confident that tomorrow night would go just as well.

His pulse still pounded from the adrenaline high and he caught a look at his eyes in the rear view mirror – his pupils were restricted, even in the dark. Frank probably wouldn't notice again. Gerard didn't even feel high or out of his mind this time, he was fine. He'd feel even better when he got home to Frank.

And the sweat in his hair didn't even have time to dry before it was getting more greasy when Frank ran his hands through it, straddling his thighs and fucking out all the left over energy from earlier. It was too difficult to pity the neighbors and how they had to listen to the high pitched moaning every weekend again, so they didn't even try, they laughed if Gerard let out a squeal louder than usual or if the bed rocked and squeaked enough to keep the people below them awake.

Frank came first with a shudder, letting his head tip back and his eyes close with his mouth wide open, even if no noise came out. His skin shined from sweat in the lamp light and it dripped down his forehead. Gerard could get off from the sight alone while Frank was still stuck in orgasm-land, but he didn't wanna wait, so he kneed him in the lower back to get his attention, and it worked. Frank just shook his head and smiled.

He moved on shaky knees off Gerard and pulled him on his side so they faced each other, Frank couldn't get close enough to him even with their legs intertwined and Frank's fingers tangled in Gerard's hair, bringing him closer so he could kiss him deeply in between gasps for air. He reached between them for Gerard's cock to jerk him off, and Gerard scrunched his eyes closed and gripped onto Frank, probably marking up his back with his blunt nails.

Gerard's moan was muffled into Frank's neck and his body tensed, Frank kissed across his shoulder until he felt him move back, flopping onto his back on the cool fabric, breathing hard, totally spent. Frank propped up on his elbow, looking down at his sweaty mess of a boyfriend.

"Don't know if it's jizz or sweat, but I'm so sticky right now," Gerard managed through labored breaths, "And it's fucking nasty."

Frank smiled, it turned into a laugh and he collapsed down onto Gerard's chest just for a second, in love with his hot skin and the rapid heart beat under it. "Slight problem," His kissed the skin where his head laid, and pushed himself up, "The other bed sheets are just as disgusting."

"Well, shit." Gerard said flatly, "What do you suggest we do, then?"

After a much needed shower and change into oversized pajamas for both of them, Frank came up with the ingenious idea to get the Star Wars comforter out of a dark corner of the closet, where Gerard requested it go a few months back because the thought of it getting stained and gross with all the post-dance goings-on that inevitably happened was just not that pleasant.

So they reclined the couch, managed to fit themselves on one seat which resulted in Gerard half lying on top of Frank – but that was alright, nerdy comforter wrapped around them, and the white noise of traffic outside. Who needed a bed, anyway? Frank's head was cradled in Gerard's arm, bent at the elbow so he could card his fingers through Frank's hair, and once in awhile he'd kiss his forehead softly before they dozed off, finally content again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please let me know what you think about it so far! still a lot of ground to cover before the story is over but it's progressing a lot faster now
> 
> edit: the basic plot summary only fills up half a page now ahhhhh


	50. Jittery (because good chapter titles are overrated)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, no bullshit, we're about to finish this! changed it to present tense cause it helped to feel less boring and kind of tricked me into writing faster and less filler thank god. 
> 
> tl;dr this fic but everytime it's cringy the updates get slower

Most dancers' careers don't even last beyond forty. You're not young anymore, all the years of daily damage to your body catch up to you. Chronic aches and pains, arthritus, bones that never healed right after they were broken. All the stress fractures that go untreated, shin splints, strained and overworked muscles. Knee, back, and joint problems, not even including the psychological stress – most of the time you _can't_ last beyond forty.

You spend your entire life working up to the very thing that breaks you down, loving it, living it, willing to die for it. You dance to feel alive and in the end, it kills you.

Frank wakes up to a warm weight on his chest and gentle breathing on his neck. He can't move much without waking Gerard up, and lifting his arm from around his shoulders is just enough to make him stir awake anyway, soft beams of light spill in from the window and Frank breathes deeply. They're only awake long enough for them to squirm around so Frank isn't being crushed as much and they can cuddle closer. 

Sunday is an effortlessly lazy day and they can sink deeper back into sleep knowing the only thing they have to do is be at the theatre later tonight. Nothing had been this easy since before summer, and Frank's arms are wrapped tight around Gerard for all it's worth while Gerard hides his face in the crook of Frank's neck, breathing him in, with Frank able to feel his smile pressing against his skin and he wonders how life ended up being this sweet.

*

"Don't forget you're picking me up tonight." Gerard reminds again from the passenger's seat even though Frank could never forget.

Gerard's been jittery all night and his nervous energy is rubbing off on Frank, and they're blasting the heat in the car to get rid of the chill and the rain outside as Frank reluctantly pulls up to the theatre entrance. He shifts into park just as Gerard says, "Feel my heart." And reaches for Frank's hand to press against his chest.

Nevermind that Gerard's hands are freezing – they're also _shaking,_ because _he_ is shaking and something about it isn't normal.

"Oh, my god." Frank says, looking up from Gerard's chest to his eyes, "Don't have a heart attack, seriously."

Gerard brushes it aside with a giggle and unbuckles his seat belt, letting it clang against the door, "I won't," He assures, facing Frank and leaning over to kiss him once and drape his arms around him, "I'm just excited," Gerard continues, kissing Frank again in an effort to get that worried look off his face.

His eyes glimmer even in the dark, and Gerard pulls himself closer to Frank who hasn't stopped looking up at him. Rain pattering against the windshield is the only sound and the drops light up and glisten from headlights when another car pulls up behind them.

"You're shaking." Frank points out.

"I know." Gerard says, and gives him a little smile like he's promising he's fine and Frank doesn't need to worry, but he does anyway. They keep their eyes fixed on each other, Frank trails his hand lightly up Gerard's chest, to his neck, and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear which sends chills all over him.

A sudden annoyed _honk_ from the car behind them startles them into jumping before they realize what it is, and Gerard laughs when Frank flips off the driver. Frank looks back at him like he's trying not to laugh, too, and pulls Gerard closer to press their foreheads together.

"Be amazing tonight." Frank speaks softly, he can still feel Gerard trembling under his grip.

But he nods and says, "You know I will be." And Gerard breathes out a quiet, nervous laugh that can barely even be called that, and he kisses Frank again. It's like he's struggling to be still but Frank doesn't let his mind wander cause he knows he'd worry himself sick. He hasn't seen Gerard drinking or doing anything that would make him so jittery, but he pushes past the skepticism and believes Gerard when he says he's just nervous about performing. "I've gotta go." 

"One more kiss." Frank says.

"Last one." Gerard smiles, and leans forward to kiss Frank deeply enough for the rain and the cars and the worry to fade away and all he has to focus on is the softness of Gerard and how he's the only one who could ever make Frank feel so safe.

Gerard pulls back enough to say, "I love you." against his lips, and even in the dark Frank knows he's smiling and that makes him smile too.

"I love you, too." Frank says, and Gerard hesitates before sliding back, suddenly cold everywhere they had been touching and Frank sighs happily when Gerard reaches for his hand one last time and squeezes it affectionately.

After Gerard gets his bag out of the back seat and walks up to the theatre doors, it's like Frank is watching him in slow motion. He's so deep in love and he never thought it'd be possible to be so happy. Frank knows he's got a lovesick smile on his face as Gerard turns back to him and waves goodbye before he disappears through the doors.

The love of his life.

He's never been more sure.

*

Backstage is dark and everyone has split into groups or gone their seperate ways to warm up, noises from the stage managers banging around props and last minute tweaks, so many voices talking all at once it blends into a hum, everything is moving and everyone is busy, and Gerard tries to find some silence in the dressing room. 

He's cold inside and out and shaky, and even struggles to keep his teeth from chattering even though it's not even cold in the building. He leans on the counter with his eyes closed, still able to feel where Frank touched him and that's the only thing keeping him from jumping out of his skin.

On top of that, he's sick to his stomach and almost pushes off the counter to go gag himself in a last ditch effort to just get it out, but he catches a figure in the mirror and stops himself from gasping like he'd already been caught. 

It's Ryan – a friend of Brendon's from a few shows ago and the mutual acquaintance made it easy for them to get along. He's petite and doesn't even look old enough to be here, standing in the doorway of the dressing room.

"God, dude," Gerard turns to face him, "How long were you standing there?"

"I followed in you in here," Ryan shrugs, "You don't look so good."

Gerards nods, "Yeah, I know." He scrubs his hand down his face like he's trying to wake himself up, and Ryan still doesn't move but before he can open his mouth to speak again, Gerard cuts him off, "I'm fine, you go warm up or something, I'll be out in a minute."

So Ryan nods once like, _right,_ and gets the hint that Gerard's trying to shoo him away.

"Okay," Ryan says doubtfully, "If you're not out soon I'm coming back to check on you."

Gerard doesn't say anything as Ryan turns slowly and goes back the way he came.

*

It's been about thirty minutes, maybe a little more, since Frank dropped Gerard off at the theatre. He's soaking up as much heat as possible in the car in dead silence, the glowing clock is the brightest light in the whole parking garage and even though nothing's wrong, Frank's been spaced out for the past five minutes. His eyes refocus and he realizes Gerard's probably on stage by now which makes him smile a little, knowing he's out there doing what he lovess, and Frank's just chilling in the car like a weirdo and he should probably get out.

So he does, he locks the car and it echoes through the parking garage, and his phone buzzes in his pocket so in a reflex he checks it, doesn't recognize the number, but takes it anyway.

"Hello?" Frank answers.

"Is this Frank?" An unfamiliar voice asks.

Frank stops, "Yeah, who is this?"

"Ryan," Says the guy, "I know Gerard from the theatre, and – I don't know what happened," Frank squints as Ryan keeps talking, sounding more rushed and nervous as he does, "But, an ambulance just took him to the hospital, he was unconscious, everyone's panicking, I don't –" He paused, "I'm sorry, I don't know what's happening."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short as hell but it felt like it needed some more defined space between this and the next chapter which I'm working on rn but I'm not gonna say it'll be here soon cause well
> 
> we all know what happens when I promise that
> 
> let me know what you think!
> 
> [graveboyy.tumblr.com](http://graveboyy.tumblr.com/)


	51. Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen you guys I am an asshole who will never give this story the justice it deserves until next draft, which I'm making good progress on, and also putting this chapter off like fuck, so please forgive me for not being able to articulate the events of this chapter the way they should be told but instead told like this because this shit is getting done one way or another before the second draft goes up.
> 
> tuad!Frank is a flash-backy motherfucker.

Frank's getting ready for bed, exhausted, exhasperated, about a million other similar words in every language he doesn't even think a dictionary could do justice. He rinses his toothbrush and turns off the sink, and glances up to his reflection. The bruise-colored circles under his eyes haven't gone away since it happened.

He still remembers Ryan's phonecall, the one that left him feeling like his world ended when his breath hitched, and he was too shocked for tears to sting his eyes. Most of what Ryan said on the phone didn't sink in but certain words kept screaming repeatedly in Frank's mind while he drove to the hospital.

Frank especially remembers the details Ryan rattled off, like how they called an ambulance when Gerard's lips were turning blue, how he was limp and nodding in and out.

"We thought he fucking died, man." Ryan had said.

Even at the memory, Frank blinks back tears and scrubs at his face to snap out of it, but it's too late and he's already spiraling down the memories again that he can't let go no matter how hard he tries, like when he got to the hospital and told the lady at the front desk who he was there to see, and she told him, sorry, but Gerard Way had been taken into emergency surgery, and Frank's heart had dropped.

He had sat in the waiting room with static in his mind, like he was trapped in a fishbowl and nothing outside his little bubble could get in and he couldn't get out. Even in all of it, he managed to call Lisa and tell her to get here, fast, and the next thing he remembered was her squeezing him in the middle of the cold waiting room and he had been trying to hug her back, and how he felt like a kid being embraced by his own mom again.

Frank pushes off the sink, suddenly angry at his mom, angry at his aunt, angry at Kovlov, and shit – even his dad, for abandoning him like this, and how none of this should have ever happened, and Frank knows he has to be stronger than ever now and keep up a brave face, but it's never been so hard, and it's like he's _suffocating_ alone in the bathroom.

"God." He mutters quietly to himself, broken and small, and it doesn't make him feel any better.

When Lisa stood there holding him, telling him he was okay, that _Gerard_ was okay, Frank realized how many times she had to do that – be the grown up, be the hero, be the mom and comfort her kids when their dad was a monster to them and her.

"It'll be okay, shh." She'd said, but she didn't know how bad it was.

Frank decides he can't stand in the bathroom and cry all night, so he showers, because that's always been a good way to calm himself down and go back to the relief of feeling numb again. So he stands there, leaning against the shower walls with water scalding down on him, and spaces again.

He spaces back to when the doctor came out, told him and Lisa in the most calming voice she could muster, that they immediately took Gerard back. 

"We have pumped his stomach after he overdosed on pain medication." The doctor explained gently, almost slowly to ensure they were keeping up with her. "It's a miracle he survived."

Lisa grabbed Frank's hand and clutched it tightly, but even then he didn't look at her. He looked at the floor instead – an overdose. How had Frank been so blind?

The doctor sighed, and Frank's attention snapped to her because he knew it couldn't be good. "And after that we had to take him back for surgery on a severe spinal cord injury." She said, "We did what we could but his injuries were so severe we're not sure if he'll walk again. We're not even sure if he'll wake up. I'm sorry."

Even now Frank gets a chill, despite the steaming shower, and his stomach ties itself in knots to remember the doctor's words – which is every day. It's like it's stuck there, always in the back of his mind, always being chanted over and over. Frank slides down the shower wall until he's sitting and water is spraying him right in the face, and he hides his face in his folded arms to get away from it and away from the memories and away from the reality he knows will never change.

The worst part Frank remembers wasn't seeing Gerard lying there in the hospital bed, _too_ pale and too still with Lisa grasping Frank's hand. The worst part was the days that followed it – the days when Mikey got there, when their dad got there, when the whole family including Frank had to call the hospital home for the time being because nobody was going to leave Gerard if what the doctor said would be true.

The worst part was the long silences because everyone was too sick to talk. The worst part was how the family avoided each other and Frank, so Frank tried to avoid them too, except for Mikey, but even then they couldn't speak more than a few useless words to each other before Mikey was having to hold Frank while he cried like a kid and Mikey choked back tears.

The worst part was the arguments. When Lisa and Tim butt heads with each other, with Mikey, then with Frank, about pointless bullshit, and about how, if Gerard survived this, they wanted him to come home, and how Frank and Mikey were just as unwilling to move as Tim and Lisa.

The worst part was when Frank had enough and stormed out of the hospital with tears streaking down his face and how he'd always regret doing that.

Frank's crying now, too, quietly into his arm even though it's getting late and he doesn't know how long he's been in here. He really needs to go to bed – but stays still, contemplating if he should just get out and lay down or try drinking himself to sleep first, but that would make tomorrow way too difficult with the appointments scheduled.

He remembers when Mikey called him with something in his voice that wasn't anger, and told him to get back in the hospital room, _now_ , hurry. So Frank's blood ran cold and his legs shook all the way back, ready to hear the worst news of his life.

Frank shuts the water off abruptly and gets dressed, he towels his hair dry and checks his reflection again. It doesn't really look like he's been crying – maybe. He just got soap in his eyes, yeah. That's all. Frank sighs deeply and lets the memories play out again.

He remembers walking back into the hospital room, and the first thing he noticed was the heart monitor.

It beeped steadily.

Frank remembers the look on Gerard's face when they locked eyes, and he remembers breaking down in his arms before the nurses were there and they had the family step back. Frank remembers watching Gerard when one of the nurses calmly explained what happened, that they pumped his stomach and performed surgery on his back.

"It was a long time in the making," She said, "And last week was all it could handle. Can you move your legs?"

Gerard's face went from shocked to confused, his legs wiggled a little, and he said in a hoarse voice, "Yeah."

Frank breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good!" The nurse beamed, "You'll have to take it easy on your back for awhile, but tomorrow we'll get you up and see if you can still walk."

Then Gerard's eyes went wide, "What?" He asked, and Frank realized this was the first news he'd heard about the likelihood of being paralyzed.

Frank sighs one last time and steps out into the bedroom. The hot air whooshes out and he's hit with cold and that completely stomps out any remaining ideas of getting drunk, because he wants under the covers where it's warm and where he can sponge off Gerard's body-heat. Frank settles in and wraps his arms around Gerard facing away from him, and Frank kisses the back of his neck.

"Hey," Gerard says sleepily, and struggles to turn and face Frank, "You okay? You were in there for awhile."

Frank nods, "I'm okay." He tries to give him a reassuring smile, but Gerard sees right through it.

"You were crying again." He question-states.

"It's nothing." Frank says quietly.

But Gerard still has that same worried, disbelieving look as he did all day after the nurse explained everything to him slowly, and at first he seemed numb to it, then he cried, then he was just blank. Frank gave his parents and Mikey enough time to visit, and then Frank was there by his side for the rest of the day, holding his hand, kissing him repeatedly, and fighting off tears of pure relief. 

Sometimes Frank would hold Gerard's hand in his own and when he looked down at them both, he'd see a smooth, pale hand with prominent blue veins like tree branches, only more beautiful, and his own, slender, slightly less sick looking in complexion and inked sharply with things that meant the world to him. But something was missing from both of them.

When Gerard fell asleep again, Frank slipped out and asked Mikey to keep him company for a little while in case he woke up.

"It's _never_ nothing." Gerard says, trying to offer a smile, "Might as well just spill it."

"No, like," Frank says, "It's so fucking selfish for _me_ to complain, y'know?"

How _could_ Frank complain about his life? After he booked it back to the hospital and woke Gerard up, he got on one knee and held out a little black box, and that alone was enough to have Gerard crying again, Frank was too high on adrenaline to cry and his mouth was like cotton. But he still managed to say it, that he loved Gerard more than anything.

"And I came so close to losing you," Is how Frank put it, "And, and this made me realize I don't wanna wait anymore. Would you marry me?"

Frank closes his eyes and sinks deeper under the covers, Gerard rests his chin on top of Frank's head, he catches Gerard's hand in his own and feels the warmth, and the cold from the engagement ring. It's been two months since he proposed.

"Besides," Frank says, "It's late. You have physical therapy tomorrow – and it's in the _morning_."

Gerard groans.

The doctor said if he didn't show improvement within six or seven months, there probably wouldn't be any at all.

"God, I'm so sick of going." Gerard whines.

"I know," Frank says soothingly, "But you have to walk again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think about everything because it's a lot to swallow, and I've got an off-and-on fever so if none of it makes sense, oops


	52. Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy shit, am I really posting a new chapter??? anyway, this chapter is sort of intense in some ways. there's a lot of self harm mention and description and a general depressive vibe, so if that triggers you /do not/ read this or skip through those parts, they're toward the end. even if you don't self harm and reading this starts to bother you skip through it immediately and stay safe.

**FEBRUARY**

Frank is still terrified for Gerard.

And it's not because of his physical health, since he can walk with help now. 

It's because Frank hasn't seen him cry since he came home from the hospital, and because he tries to act like everything is fine, because he tells Frank every day that he's okay, and because he doesn't talk about the elephant in the room, ever. 

Gerard's dance career is over. 

Everything he is, is over. And he's the one responsible for it.

The doctors, the nurses, the whole fucking staff at physical therapy, his parents, Mikey, and Frank, know that dancing is never going to happen again, unless he wants to be paralyzed from the waist down for good. Every possibility the past seven years led up to was over, scrapped, and would never happen. A whole plan and life-long dream was permanently called off, gone, and Gerard hasn't talked about it once.

Frank stares at him distantly to his right with his head propped against his hand, leaning on the arm of the couch and looking off to Gerard laying on the other side of the couch, staring at nothing. It bothers Frank how much time he spends doing that. Frank takes in a sudden breath and pats Gerard's leg affectionately, "Feeling okay?"

Gerard flinches and tries to make it look subtle. "Yeah, I'm fine." Then he sighs, finally looks at Frank, and says, "Would you help me go get a sketchbook?"

"Of course," Frank is already rising to his feet. He learned to be like that, to be one step ahead, to be able to take care of another person, to really _see_ things, like the whole thing had sobered him up mentally. "I'll get it for you." 

"No," Gerard protests, and Frank stops. "I want to."

So Frank definitely doesn't argue to any physical movement Gerard is ready for – that's the only way he'll have a chance at getting back to normal. At least now he can sit up on his own like normal, he just can't stand up with the same kind of ease.

Frank looks around to see if there's a cane, but of course there's not because Gerard refuses to use it because it makes him feel like he's hobbling to senior bingo night. Frank is all the support he says he needs, literally and emotionally. There was a whole metric fuck ton of parental issues Gerard decided to deal with by just tuning it out.

Sometimes Frank was relieved by that, but when it came to conflicting schedules and doctors' appointments, second thoughts about that popped up.

"You're doing good, babe." Frank says when they've made it to the bedroom door, still helping him shuffle along at a snail-pace that struck Frank with some kind of emotion he just couldn't place yet. He really wishes Gerard would use a cane. It's safer that way.

Gerard sighs, "You don't have to talk to me like a kid."

"I wasn't." Frank says, "I mean, I didn't do it intentionally."

"I know," Gerard says, "Sorry."

And by then they've made it to the dresser, so Gerard kinda shoos Frank away so he can stand there with the appearance of a normal person who isn't relearning how to _walk_ while he picks out some pens and a pencil and his sketchbook and closes the drawer, and Frank is standing there watching him like a ticking time bomb and it drives Gerard up the wall but it's not like he doesn't need him there.

Then after he's sitting back down at the kitchen table, because god knows he really misses having a desk, he can be normal again while he sits and draws because Frank doesn't have to help him with that. But it doesn't stop Frank from staring, subconsciously grinding his teeth, and then pretending he wasn't.

*

Eventually Frank has to take a job offer because there's no income and New York isn't really a place to consider inexpensive. After having Gerard _promise_ to call him if he needs anything and promise again to not get out of bed because everything he'd need was at arm's length, and then make him promise again that he'd use the walker if he absolutely _had_ to get up – which Frank unearthed from the closet since graduating to a cane, Frank finally said, to call Ray if it was an emergency and he needed someone fast.

And Gerard took it without complaining because he knew Frank was trying his hardest.

A few hours after he was gone, Gerard tried sleeping, he tried binge watching, he tried looking through social media, he tried reading a book, he tried drawing, but nothing was right. He needed to be up, he needed to be moving or dancing or stretching, and another minute confined to this apartment was going to make him suffocate.

So he manages to get both feet on the ground, and then all his weight on them with one hand on the nightstand til he gets his balance, and then he shoves the stupid fucking walker out of the way because he isn't gonna use that fucking thing. It's alright as long as he can lean on the bed and grip the walls, but when he's in the middle of the living room with nothing to hold onto, it's like a rug pulled out from under him and he panics.

And then it's one misstep after that when he falls.

"Mother _fucker_!" He says, and just lays there to accept defeat, sighing deeply. He contemplates taking a nap. But he knows that's stupid and he knows he can't get up and he doesn't wanna embarrass himself trying. He rolls on his back and feels for his cell phone, but it's not in his pocket – or the other pocket, or the back pockets, and Gerard realizes he's really fucked up – and he is _not_ about to fucking _crawl_. 

Not that he even could.

He sighs again and feels the first anger-induced sting of tears, but he's just too flustered for any of them to come out. He scrubs his hands across his face and just leaves them there – digging into his eyes til he sees sparkles and whines,"Goddamnit."

He gives the floor a good, angry smack, that hurts his hand way more than it hurts the floor.

*

"I _just_ fell, Frank, and I was gonna call Ray." Gerard says a few hours after the fact when Frank gets home and helps him up. "It's totally fine."

"It's not," Frank argues, he knows Gerard was lying but he'd rather just let it go. "You could've hurt yourself, _badly_. Do you know what that means?"

Gerard doesn't look at him, he sits on the edge of the bed looking down instead, so Frank kneels down to his level so he won't have a choice but to look at him.

"Do you know what that means?" Frank asks intently. Gerard knows he's saying, one wrong move and he's paralyzed, but Gerard grits his teeth and doesn't answer. Frank sighs heavily, "You _have_ to let people help you, and you have to do what you're told."

Gerard shakes his head, "You just don't understand."

"What don't I understand?" Frank asks, shifting closer.

He doesn't understand how humiliating any of it is, how hopeless and pointless it is, how ridiculous and shitty he feels, and how his whole life should've ended. It feels like it already has, but that's the worst part – it hasn't. He had everything, and when it was all over that's the way it should have stayed, instead of leaving him here, stuck with all the memories and dead dreams that would fade, and then he'd have nothing. He _can't_ exist, confined to an apartment or a wheelchair, until he forgets what the applause sounded like, or what the stage lights looked like, or the adrenaline, or the energy.

At first Gerard doesn't realize he's crying until a tear slides down his face. He wipes it away and moves away from Frank's reach so he wouldn't have to see the sad expression on his face anymore. "I don't know."

*

**APRIL**

A little, pestering feeling bugs Frank, but he keeps it bogged down and hidden with a bunch of other silly little thoughts. It's a little feeling that wonders if Gerard just doesn't _care_ enough to get better – but there it goes, getting bogged down again and replaced with knowing Gerard can walk more independently, for the most part – so that means he's trying after all, Frank guesses.

At least now with a little bit of independence, Frank feels better leaving him alone, and he thought at first it would help whatever _this_ is Gerard's going through he won't tell Frank about, maybe he'll start getting back to his old, happy self.

But no, instead, things just spiraled into something worse. Frank notices Gerard sleeps – all the time, and he isn't restless, just tired, always drowsy or sound asleep like he doesn't have any energy left.

"You know the drill," Frank says casually as he hands Gerard a book he'd been meaning to read, "Stay in bed, use your cane, or _call me or Ray._ " He always has to stress the last part. 

"Sir, yes sir." Gerard says sarcastically, and Frank laughs, leans down to kiss him goodbye, and says,

"I'll be back after while."

Gerard waits long enough for Frank to get to his car after he closed the apartment door, and then he's up and out of bed – to shower, wash his face, and brush his teeth without help like a fucking normal person. It's the only hint of normality he gets anymore.

The hot steam wakes him up and the feel and smell of soap and tooth paste make him feel clean and less like a slob, like he actually has something to live for. He wipes the condensation off the mirror to see a black clad person with black hair, and a tired face so pale it challenges the cold, white tile, and he's sure it didn't look that chubby a couple of months ago. 

He sighs, "Who the fuck are you?"

*

It's not long after that day Frank's at work again, and Gerard's sitting on the edge of the tub in the same cold bathroom. Once he'd thought about it, it wouldn't leave his head.

He'd never seen his thighs that pale before, he'd never seen all the dark blue veins running through them so clearly. The little razor blade in his hand doesn't look like it could cause a lot of damage, and it's like something in his mind clouded the whole situation. Gerard never thought he'd try something like cutting, and he thought he'd be shaking and nervous or whatever, but he can't feel more indifferent. 

The stings don't surprise him, it just surprises him how easily the skin breaks.

And once he started, he didn't know where to stop, and after a dozen or so shallow cuts with dark red blood beading up at the corners, Gerard realizes he fucked up and those cuts will be there forever, but the thought just doesn't bother him like he thinks it should.

He doesn't feel regret when he takes a step back and really looks at them, he just feels the sharp, fresh sting that leaks the blood along with anger, like the pent up sadness dissipated and he's numb again while he washes and bandages the cuts, and crosses his fingers Frank won't notice the band-aid wrappers in the trash, but at the same time Gerard doesn't care enough to do anything about it.

*

Frank doesn't understand why Gerard has been so physically closed off for the past few weeks, like he's hiding something, and Frank has to know about it in case it's another emergency like that time Gerard ignored a spinal cord injury for a year, because that turned out so well.

He supposed the suspicion put him on high alert for anything, that or it was just too obvious this time when Frank did the laundry and saw spotted lines of something red on the thighs of too many of Gerard's pants. Frank hopes he's overreacting and just jumping to conclusions, but it makes sense to him, so he drops what he's doing and finds Gerard at the kitchen table, staring out the window in a daze.

Frank glances at his wrists first, and they're fine. "Hey," He says, and Gerard startles out of his trance and looks at Frank. He looks _exhausted_.

"Oh," He rubs his eyes. The way Frank looms tips him off. "Hey. Is something wrong?"

But Frank can't confront him. Not like this, not now. So Frank shakes his head, and says, "No. Everything's fine." He leaves, before the twisting feeling in his stomach becomes obvious on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think, please. 
> 
> also, I feel like there should be some kind of disclaimer that there's obviously nothing wrong with disabilities and this does not reflect my views on the subject, and as for the self harm, I've been there so this isn't just talking out of my ass.
> 
> <3


	53. Blue Glow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second verse same as the first, tw for mentions of self harm and a fuck load of depressing stuff. 
> 
> this isn't Quality work here guys but I'm trying to wrap this up quickly and post the final draft

"Do you remember the first time we went out?" Frank asks with a smile. He's sitting across the table from Gerard in the restaurant, after Frank insisted they went out tonight for Gerard's nineteenth birthday, and Gerard insisted they didn't. Frank won. "You were like, seventeen. And you were so fucking cute, too, like I kinda just wanted to pinch your cheeks the whole time."

Gerard finally breathes out a laugh and Frank's heart is at ease for a second since those moments of genuine emotion are getting more and more rare. It was hell trying to convince Gerard to get out of the apartment without making him upset and Frank wasn't sure why, since he can walk short lengths with almost no problem now.

"I can't believe I was ever really seventeen." Gerard comments.

"What do you mean?" Frank asks.

"I don't know, like," He shrugs and looks down to absently mess with the engagement ring on his finger, "It feels like a million years ago. It's just weird. And I was such a _kid_." He looks back up at Frank, who's propped with his chin on his knuckles watching him pleasantly, like he's actually listening. He's always been like that, and it's part of what's always made Gerard feel like he can just rattle on to him. "I don't know how I was ever that naive, or immature, or whatever. And it was just a couple of years ago."

**MAY**

__If Frank thought Gerard was spiraling into something bad before, then what the fuck is this?_ _

__At least before he wasn't so withdrawn, he didn't ignore calls and texts, and actually seemed interested in things. Any kind of thing – now he's vacant, and Frank tears his eyes away when Gerard is doing that thing when he's just staring at the floor, slouching, and barely moving enough to know he's not a wax figure. Sometimes Frank repeats his name a couple of times before he ever hears him. Most of the time he just sleeps._ _

__When there's more horizontal red streaks in the thighs of Gerard's pants, the bottles of booze begin to evaporate, and Frank catches Gerard shaking pain pills out into his hand, his heart drops and speeds up simultaneously, and all Frank can think is that he'd already overdosed once with those._ _

__"Please don't look at me like that," Gerard almost begs when he catches a glimpse of Frank watching him, "It's just one cause I've got a head ache." When Frank doesn't say anything because he doesn't know what else to say, Gerard continues, "Frank, I swear. It's fine."_ _

__"Okay," Frank agrees, and nods for more reassurance that he's not upset. That's all he _can_ do, because Frank doesn't know how to tell Gerard his behavior is scaring the shit out of him, but he has to eventually. _ _

__When Gerard's sleeping off the head ache on the couch, Frank's pacing and working up the nerve to say something._ _

__Gerard shifts enough for Frank to be able to justify waking him up, so he kneels down to his level and shakes him gently, "Gerard? Hey," Frank says softly when he opens his eyes. "I'm getting really worried about you."_ _

__"Hmm," He hums, hiding his face in the crook of his arm, obviously uninterested and ready to go back to sleep. "Why's that?"_ _

__"You've just," Frank says, running a hand through his long, shaggy hair. He didn't think this through enough, and if he just blurts out the question he'll freak Gerard out. "Can you look at me for a second? I need to talk to you."_ _

__"Yeah," Gerard sighs and sits up, digging his palm into his eyes, "Oh, I need to talk to you about something, too."_ _

__Frank furrows his eyebrows, "About what?" If he just backs off a little, this might resolve the whole fucking issue and Gerard'll come clean on his own, Frank hopes._ _

__"I was thinking," He says quietly, "If I ever get back to normal or whatever, if maybe I could go to college?"_ _

__"Oh," Frank stifles – but it's good news! Right? "Yeah, of course – that's great! I mean," Frank smiles and shakes his head, "You're almost back to normal as it is. What do you wanna do?"_ _

__Gerard shrugs like he's embarrassed to admit it, "I was thinking art school." Frank can't help the smile that spreads across his face – that was like a no brainer, makes perfect sense. "Anyway, what did you wanna talk about?"_ _

__"It doesn't matter."_ _

__*_ _

__The TV is on later that evening, but it's on mute and all it's good for is a calming blue glow since all the lights in the apartment are off. Frank's worry keeps bubbling up, then he pushes it down over and over farther every time but it bubbles up again faster and it gets harder each time to not say anything and fuck something up._ _

__Gerard's actually letting Frank in – letting him kiss him heatedly again with his hands touching everywhere like he's making up for all the times he couldn't, and Gerard's legs fall naturally on either side of Frank._ _

__He can't fuck this up._ _

__Since Gerard finally seems okay with it, and okay in general, Frank tries to not so subtly put a hand down his pants – and that's alright. It stays alright until he tugs Gerard's pants down and they barely go past his hips, thank fuck, and Gerard pulls away and starts to say, "I don't want--"_ _

__"You're cutting, aren't you?" Frank interrupts._ _

__Then everything stops, and the silence gets loud._ _

__The panic and surprise show in Gerard's eyes when he looks up at Frank, but just briefly, and Frank holds him still with his stare because he's not gonna let the question slide. Gerard's silence is plenty of an answer._ _

__"You are." Frank says, something in his voice almost sounds like disbelief._ _

__Gerard's gone completely still and says, "Well I guess I can't fucking lie about it."_ _

__"Let me see it." Frank says quietly._ _

__"No," Gerard says, like he's shocked and angry Frank even brought it up – because he is. He squirms to get out from underneath Frank, and Frank says,_ _

__"Let me see it, Gerard. This is fucking serious." He lets Gerard up, and they both sit back on opposite ends of the couch before Frank starts leaning in closer._ _

__"I don't want you to see it." Gerard says. He reverts into sitting with his knees up to his chest like he's trying to hide into a little ball and it's not working._ _

__"I'm gonna have to eventually." Frank says._ _

__That rings out in Gerard's ears, and his stomach flips and his face heats up. Frank is right. At this point, those scars can't be hidden._ _

__Frank's heart leaps when Gerard unfolds and rolls down his pants enough for him to see his thighs and what he did to them. The ones that aren't covered with band-aids are old, pink scars. Most of them are little lines, some are light and raised. And then there are cuts that are still scabs, and the ones that Frank's eyes are plastered to are the ones that are still irritated and fresh._ _

__"Jesus Christ, Gerard."_ _

__He can almost cry from looking at them, and he only notices Gerard actually _is_ crying when he sniffles and wipes a tear away. He's just crying because he's overwhelmed, and Frank wants to wrap him in a hug and tell him not to cry, that it's okay, even though it's really not._ _

__"I'm not fucking sorry," Gerard says, yanking his pants up to cover the cuts when Frank pulls him in and he easily goes along with it. "I meant to do it, and I'm not ashamed about it." Then he backs away enough to look Frank in the eyes and for once looks scared and says, "You're not gonna put me on suicide watch or anything, are you?"_ _

__"No," Frank hums, "I don't know what to do."_ _

__"I mean it," Gerard says, "Please. For once I don't want a fucking consequence."_ _

__Frank tries to rock him, and can't stop himself from glancing down at his covered thighs, unable to shake the image. "Can't you just," Frank sighs, " _Talk_ to someone, talk to me, before you do it again so I can try to help you?"_ _

__"I'm so sick of talking, Frank. I'm sick of everything."_ _

__"What can I do?"_ _

__"That's the whole point." Gerard pulls back again and settles against the couch, "There's nothing you can do, there's nothing I can do or fucking _anyone_." That's when he exhales hard, gets up hastily and wobbly at first, and a part of Frank is tugged in his direction in a plea for him not to leave – just not to run off and revert back into isolation._ _

__Frank needs to go after him, he needs to give him space, he needs to make him talk, he needs to let him ride out the silence – because nothing is right and everything is a dead end._ _

__"Gerard," Frank sighs, and he's easy to catch up to in the bedroom doorway, where they've stood a million times and Frank would give anything to never stand here again. "Don't walk away, and just communicate with me, _please_."_ _

__He crosses his arms and his posture droops sadly, "I don't know what you want me to say, Frank – I just," Gerard trails off, he sniffles again and wipes away more tears, "I don't know, I'm sorry, I'm really fucking sorry."_ _

__Frank's first reaction is to comfort when Gerard's eyebrows go up and before he can even process it, he's all out sobbing, and Frank is squeezing him in close. Hot, salty tears flow out, Gerard grips Frank just as tightly and every double breath is muffled into Frank's shoulder._ _

__He grimaces and feels his own tears well up when Gerard is fucking _weeping_ , loudly, and it stabs Frank in the heart to see him so purely miserable and lost, like a child crying for someone to just _help_ , but he said it earlier, that no one can help him._ _

__"Frank, I don't--" Gerard stops sobbing long enough to say in between rapid breaths, "I don't even wanna fucking live anymore."_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> real talk, is anyone still reading these updates? what are your thoughts? I'm not trying to ask for comments, I honestly just wanna know if this is still being read
> 
> oh and in light of that I'm really fucking happy to say that draft number Two is actually progressing again after I was dead to the world in like a three month long depressive episode haha


	54. A Dancer Dies Twice pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> regular updates?? what the fuck is this, 2016???  
> tw for self harm

It's the kind of raw, aching misery that feels like the end of the world, like you're drowning in flames, and Gerard cries until he can't keep his eyes open and his voice is shot. His chest feels like it's caving in on him and his face is sticky from tear drops that streamed down. 

Frank is still clutching him in the dark like it's the only thing keeping either of them alive. Gerard stopped sobbing after awhile and now it's just convulsive gasps and double breaths under Frank's grip.

"Why am I so stupid?" Gerard says, his voice is raspy and small and he looks at Frank with pleading eyes that tears are welling back up in, searching Frank for a genuine answer that won't change a goddamn thing. "My parents _hate_ me, Frank. And Mikey has his own life and he doesn't have time for me and why would he even care? And I don't have any friends, there's no one." He cries, and every tear falling is another knife in Frank's heart. "There's nothing anymore because the only thing I was ever good at and the only thing I fucking loved is _gone_ , and _I_ fucked it up."

His throat fucking stings and the tears clump his eyelashes together – Frank is speechless, all because Gerard keeps scaring him with outbursts or silent periods and everything he does or tries is _wrong_ and now he's dragged Frank down with him. It's always his fault.

"Why couldn't I have just died?" Gerard asks, "In the hospital, the only thing I remembered was you and the theatre that night, and for a second everything was okay and I shouldn't have fucking woken up and I'd still be okay."

**JUNE**

Gerard's burning up and sticky with sweat, snot and tears drip down his face while he desperately tries to gag himself. The cold bathroom floor sends shocks up his knees that are probably getting bruised every time he lurches forward and coughs. His heart beats so rapidly the fabric over his chest visibly moves, if he stays still long enough.

What if he's too late and Frank finds him dead on the floor?

He shoves his fingers down his throat again and it doesn't fucking _work_ , it's not a matter of _if_ the pills dissolved yet, it's how many, how much, and now he's trembling, just as he pukes up the pills and doesn't care enough to count if they're all there. 

Gerard doesn't even know how many he took, it's just however many were left.

* 

It's hard for Frank to sleep anymore, if he drifts off too soundly, he won't know if Gerard is trying to hurt himself again, and after last time, Frank ended up flushing every pill in the apartment. He's careful about buying new razor blades ever since tiny cuts appeared on Gerard's wrists. And every time Frank wakes up in a panic because he's alone in bed, he calls Gerard's name and looks through the apartment, sick to his stomach with dread over what he might find and horrified that his fiance will get sent to psychiatric hospital if he doesn't stop trying to hurt himself if he's even alive, but most of the time Frank just finds him drawing at the kitchen table and hears, "I miss my fucking desk."

Frank breathes a sigh of relief.

One night while Frank is asleep, Gerard abandons a drawing he can't focus on because all day, he's been numb and itching to jump out of his skin, and weighed down with what will never be. 

So in a last fucking desperate resort for relief, he looks for the sharpest kitchen knife he can find, and blinks tears away when he rips out a page in his sketchbook, and writes a note to Frank that he folds and lays on his pillow.

Not long after that, Frank stirs awake, immediately panicking by Gerard's absence but he reminds himself that he's in the kitchen drawing. Frank almost doesn't get up to check on him, but the note catches his eye, he turns on the lamp and sits up to unfold it and read it.

 _Sorry. I love you_.

*

The only indication that Gerard is awake are the wet streaks suddenly tracing down his face. But at least this time he never fell unconscious, just dehydrated and in need of stitches. He finally opens his eyes and squints in the bright hospital light.

"Bert's coming to visit." Frank says quietly. "Ray's in New Jersey for the week or he'd be here, too." Gerard just nods and doesn't look at Frank. He doesn't look at the bandages on his arms, even though that's the only thing Frank _can_ look at. He grimaces thinking about walking in on Gerard doing that last night. "Why did you do it?"

At first Gerard is silent, not even a heart monitor beeps this time and there's no sound getting in from outside the heavy door to the room.

"There's nothing left to live for." His voice is almost a whisper, and then he finally looks over to Frank. "I'm fucking sorry. I know I'm just scaring you all the time and I never meant to drag you down, too. I wish," Gerard's voice cracks, and Frank leans in closer, holds Gerard's hands up to his lips to kiss them even if he feels sick knowing what's under the bandages. "I wish you could be happy, and just, not have to worry about me. I'm not trying to hurt _you_ but I know I am."

Tears accidentally fall out of Frank's eyes and hit Gerard's fists, and Gerard squeezes Frank's hands in his.

"You didn't leave when I was fucked up." Frank says, his voice shakes. "You stayed and you tried everything you knew to help, but I don't know how to help you. Whatever the hell you're going through – I'd take it away if I knew how but I don't know _how_. I will _never_ leave you, but I don't know how to help you and I don't think you're gonna get through it on your own."

When Bert gets there, Frank steps out of the room for awhile to get some air. After hello's are said and Frank's outside and formalities are over, Bert pulls the chair closer to the hospital bed and sits down, and point blank says,

"You're scaring the shit out of everyone."

"I don't wanna hear it."

"Sucks," Bert says, "You're going to. Something's gotta give, dude. I can't give you the 'stay strong' bullshit, tell you you're being a coward or that everything magically gets better. It doesn't work like that. But I'm here if you need anything, so is Frank, and Ray, and your brother, and you've probably got parents. I can't pretend to know what kind of emotional turmoil you're going through, but we're here for you until you find a way to cope with it."

"I don't speak to my parents anymore." Gerard says. "And there's no coping. You just," He scrubs his face with his hands in frustration, "You don't understand, Bert, and I'm fucking done trying to explain that the only thing I had worth living for is over."

"Then find some way around it." Bert says, "Get married, adopt a couple of kids, move to another country – I don't fucking know. But you have to find a reason to live, and we're all here, like I said, but we can't talk you out of shit or tell you one day you'll wake up and be okay. I know that. And I know that you're hurting and it's not as easy as everyone makes it sound." He sighs, "Just find a reason to live. Even if it's trivial."

"Performing _was_ the reason."

"Then find a goddamn way to do it."

*

Frank comes home early and mostly drinks coffee, so he can always keep an eye on Gerard, because if he comes home too late or sleeps too heavily, he might not be fortunate enough to bring him home from the hospital again. Sometimes Ray comes to visit if Frank has to be gone too long.

After physical therapy is over and Gerard recovered as much as he ever will, it's like a burden lifted off he didn't even know was there, and the weird reality sinks in that this is as far as it goes. That he can walk as much as he wants and run in moderation. That he still has most of his sexual function. That most of the sensation in his legs is back. But nothing will ever get beyond this point.

His spinal cord will never handle the stress of dancing again.

And now he has a scar on his lower back, scars on his thighs, and scars on his wrists.

Frank helps change the bandages on Gerard's wrists since it's a two-hand job, and Gerard closes his eyes every time Frank unwraps them, clenches his jaw, and sighs. 

"It looks better tonight." Frank comments.

"Yeah." Gerard says, and finally looks down at his own arms while they're completely bare. He and Frank sit on the edge of the tub, where Gerard thought it'd be easier to bleed out that night, and now he can't look at it without images of harsh red streaking down against the solid white. He really should never have done that.

Frank gets up for a soapy washcloth to clean around the stitches, and if it weren't for his paranoia about cleanliness, Gerard probably wouldn't give a shit and just let it get infected. Frank sits down closer than before.

"Does that hurt?" He asks.

Gerard shakes his head. "Is it really fucking masochistic that one of the things I miss is getting hurt?" He says, "Like blisters and bruises."

Frank shrugs and smiles a little, "Before the tips of my fingers calloused I really enjoyed fucking them up on guitar strings. The sting felt good. Then I'd always irritate them while they were healing." Frank's hands are gentle, despite the callouses, and his touch is as soft as his voice. 

He towel dries the soap away and re-wraps Gerard's wrists, the stitches go all the way up to the middle of his forearm and Frank wonders how, when the stitches come out, he'll be able to look at that for the rest of his life without thinking back to now. How, like a tattoo, he'll always be reminded of this sadness when he looks at Gerard's arms.

After he wraps the bandages tight, his hands grace down his arms and Gerard catches Frank's hands in his and entwines their fingers. Before Frank knows it, Gerard is kissing him slowly. 

A spark died last year, Frank had almost worried it was just puppy love for awhile until they proved to each other that neither of them were going anywhere, and then when they'd finally made up only for that whole catastrophe to happen, it'd been too much of a blur to think about since.

Gerard presses in more but just as gently, and trails his hand up to Frank's perfectly shaggy hair to run his fingers through it. His kissing trails down to Frank's neck and ends in a sigh, and Frank pulls him in closer to hold him in a hug, for a second he's sure this is only gonna turn into another break down.

"Are you okay?" Frank asks.

Gerard pulls back to shake his head no, and Frank tries giving him a smile to cheer him up, but it doesn't work. He isn't even sure of the last time he saw Gerard smiling.

"I'm sorry." Gerard says, pressing his forehead against Frank's. 

"What for?"

"Everything I _can_ be sorry for."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit is so close to being finished I'm fucking pumped  
> and thank you guys for letting me know you're still interested in this. <3


	55. A Dancer Dies Twice, pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jfc you guys as I'm rewriting this I realized the beginning of this fic is totally Sk8r boi. He was a punk, he did ballet, what more can i say?
> 
> anyway. this is rushed. and I don't think there are triggers other than NSFW.
> 
> edit: I'm just now realizing a day later the fuck up with the format, so if you read it before it was fixed, sorry about that! that's why you don't skip the preview :p

When Gerard is at the window looking out, with the glass fogging up from his breath, it's too still, like the night he got the kitchen knife. The sketchbook is closed and forgotten on the table just like the untouched pencils scattered beside it in the dark. 

The city outside the window glows with life and people moving around, and the pane of glass is the fucking barrier that keeps Gerard confined to this apartment – this stagnant, suffocating apartment with shitty memories attached to every square inch.

He's never felt so restless, so dead, and the click of the lighter is the only sound in the apartment so after he lights another one of Frank's cigarettes he pushes the window open, and the breeze from so high up and the noises of the city wash over him in some vain fucking attempt to feel alive again.

The breeze blows the smoke back into his face and he coughs into his hand because a couple of nights leeching off Frank's cigarettes haven't been enough for him to get used to it yet. Gerard's heart pounds at the thought of being able to jump and feeling like he could fly again, he looks down and catches sight of his hands, propped on window sill, and the ring, the smudged ink, the raised blue veins.

"Gerard?" Comes Frank's raspy, sleepy voice, and he flinches. "What are you doing?"

He just holds up the cigarette for a simple response, and takes another look at the city and sky scrapers coated in blue and the sparkling headlights on the street, and turns around to see Frank squinting,

"You're smoking?" He asks, and comes closer to lean on the table.

He shrugs, "Why not? I mean," He trails off, and takes another drag before he stubs it out on the sill, and then retires it to the ashtray on the table. "No reason to take care of my lungs anymore." He sighs deeply and just as tiredly as Frank feels when he plops into the chair at the table.

Frank shakes out of his paralysis and blinks back exhaustion, sits opposite of him at the table as Gerard fumbles with the lighter and pack of cigarettes out of his pocket to light another, Frank can't stop himself from looking at the foreign sight, like he might as well be watching a child smoke.

Gerard thinks they look like an old married couple who've been run down, trapped in debt, and have five shrieking kids who finally went to bed early and gave them a second of peace. He wishes it were that simple.

"The window's open cause I was thinking about jumping and uh, considering it. A lot." Gerard pipes up. "One last adrenaline rush and no more worries. I think it would be more effective than slitting my wrists." He says, "Obviously."

Then he's quiet for awhile, and Frank's quiet too when he caves in for the nicotine and lights up, confused as to why it feels so guilty this time.

"I think it's always gonna hurt." Gerard says, "The what if's, what could have been's. Like, even when I was a kid, that's all I dreamed about, and everyone else was freaking out over dates and prom and popularity, and I just wanted to be on stage and feel alive and dance. And god, Frank, when I finally got to do that, it was the best time of my whole life. I fucking did that, all of it. And now it's just a dream again. Now I can't. Not even at all. And I dream about being on stage every night to feel alive again, and I'm fucking scared I'll forget what it was like. That something's always gonna be missing. That I'll never feel alive again. And I just want it to be over before I forget."

Frank bites the inside of his cheek to keep from crying, and grinds his teeth. He looks out the window to his left and exhales so tears won't fall out of his eyes, and he takes deep breaths to steady his voice before he even talks.

"You can't keep living like this." He manages without his voice breaking. "Something has to change."

"Fuck," Gerard mutters under his breath, and takes a deep breath to shake the feeling that he's trapped. "I don't want to live like this."

"I can't just watch you fucking suffer." Frank says. His throat stings and closes up, and he leans forward to stub out the cigarette – anything to distract himself so he won't pay any mind to the fire building in his chest. He stays like that, hunched over and small and trying to block everything out.

He flinches when Gerard gets up too fast, and his chair scrapes against the floor. He goes back to the open window and props on the sill again, looking at the pitch black sky, not even a fucking star to wish on. 

"I know I can't live like this." Gerard says, "I wanna move on." 

The contrast of the cool breeze outside and Frank's warm, solid figure suddenly behind him and secure arms around his middle spark bitter sweet pain, of how dull the whole world's become and little fleeting moments like this remind him of when he could feel something other than numbness. Frank buries his face into Gerard's shoulder, scrunching his eyes shut tight and breathing him in like if he let's go he'll be gone.

"I wanna move on and feel something again." Gerard says, and it almost comes out as a whine. 

Frank squeezes tighter, his breath is a hot patch on his shoulder and it's really subtle the way Gerard's hands come up to Frank's around his middle, and he huffs out another breath because restlessness is eating him up. Even under Frank's grip Gerard manages to turn and face him, seeing him so close, a front row seat to the tiredness in his eyes and the agitation of nothing feeling right.

Gerard starts to lean in and Frank meets him halfway, keeping him close, never wanting to let go because it feels so do or die.

And after the first kiss and familiarity sets in, twinged with desperation and anger at everything, Gerard frowns and closes his eyes to push down the emotions trying to overwhelm him into tears, since he didn't realize how much he fucking needed this. 

Frank nudges his nose against Gerard's and bites his lower lip softly, and that's enough to make him start kissing again until it gets rough and they both want to jump out of their skins, and Frank keeps intentionally bumping their noses and pushing back and biting Gerard's lips until they're red. 

It's hasty and fucking desperate until Gerard can't take it and he's gotta have more contact, more of the closest he's come to feeling alive – and even though Frank's still kissing him like he needs it, Gerard breaks away and inhales so fast and deep his throat burns, and it's like walking into blackness when he wordlessly pushes past Frank and grabs his hand to make him follow, there aren't any words important enough to be said and they're both stumbling over each other by the time they get to the bedroom because Frank can't stay away from him that long.

Gerard gasps when Frank's biting moves to his neck and the sting shoots through to his fingertips, and all he can manage is to pull Frank's hair and tip his head back to kiss him again, and before Gerard realizes what's happening Frank shoves him back on the bed, and just as he's making sense of it Frank pulls his own shirt off and flings it down. 

A lot more tattoos had made an appearance and until now Gerard had never fully appreciated them, even if it was dark and Frank was a blue shape and walking piece of art. Gerard lays back and looks at the ceiling, cataloguing every touch of Frank's when he's fumbling with unbuttoning Gerard's pants and roughly yanking them off.

He's trying to burn the sound of Frank's heavy breathing in his mind, the rustle of fabric and creak of the bed when the mattress dips further and Frank is finally on top of him and biting his neck again – and Gerard just whines and pulls him closer.

"Just hurt me." Gerard says, his voice is muffled, and Frank kind of pauses, so he adds, "Come on, Frank please," And Frank seems to get it because he tugs Gerard's hand away to pin it above his head, avoiding his wrist and squeezing tightly, and Gerard goes with it because he wants to feel fucked hard and hit and hurt. 

Frank scrapes his teeth against Gerard's jaw, a jagged line from the movement of grinding on him that he's barely aware of, then in a messy kiss he bites down hard enough to draw a few drops of blood that get smeared onto Gerard's cheek. Frank lets up at the taste of blood, to give them room to breathe.

"You wanna hurt?" Frank asks genuinely, shoving his pants down and stepping out of them, and Gerard sits back against the pillows in the unmade bed and nods.

"I wanna fucking feel." He tells Frank, who's stripping off his shirt and Gerard feels a prominent flush in his chest when Frank's totally naked and holding his shoulders back like he's full of confidence standing there, like he knows he's hot, like Gerard used to be when they fucked, but now he's just glad Frank can still be like that.

Gerard's underwear still covers the scars and thinking about what happens when Frank sees them all again is a scary plunge that he'll never be ready for, that he dreads, which is why he can't get them off fast enough and Frank's heart sinks at the sight of all those countless lines that he hasn't had a chance to get used to.

But Frank's on top of him again, his hips between his legs, so it doesn't matter, and Frank drags his blunt nails up Gerard's sides to leave little raised lines, and when grinding doesn't cut it and pinches and purposely too-hard touches to leave bruises doesn't hurt enough, Frank finally gets his fingers inside, and it's been so long just this has them both glistening with sweat.

It's like Frank is so desperate for contact he's trying to suffocate Gerard, who's just not having it and pushing Frank off and whining with angry confliction even though he's just as desperate for it. He wants to be choked, to be scratched and bit, and hit against the headboard, so Frank gives him just that after he gets his cock in, even if it's been forever, since before the cutting, and before the hospital trips.

Frank's mouth only leaves Gerard to bite and lick and suck on his neck and chest, and Gerard scratches up Frank's back with his nails – and thank god Frank fucks him hard, even though he still needs more and Gerard gasps every time Frank thrusts in until he starts to cry.

And Frank scrunches his face and moans hard and loud like a fuck you to the world. Gerard's hands are everywhere, trying to hold onto something until he settles for the sheets and twists his fists around them so hard his arms tremble. 

Frank gasps and grits his teeth when he comes, groaning like he's being tortured, waking the neighbors up, getting hot again knowing there are people who know exactly what's happening in their apartment. His thighs tense, everything tenses and relaxes all at once and a weight lifts off his chest like a bad romance novel, and Frank rides it out and thrusts in slowly, sweat dripping from his face, and he doesn't even have to jerk Gerard off long before the sight alone is too much for him too. 

He's crying when he comes, just a few salty tears mixing with salty sweat, and after he opens his eyes he realizes his hair is uncomfortably wet and so are the sheets and he and Frank need to shower all the sweat off, but it's just not gonna happen. 

They're both breathing heavy, sticky and disgusting and drained, and fucked. Frank shifts to sit up beside Gerard, who hasn't even moved yet, and sees most of the sheets and a pillow knocked onto the floor. 

Gerard has more dried blood smeared on his lips, Frank can't see them, but he can feel the bruises on himself forming and how sore he'll be tomorrow. 

"Are you okay?" He asks, absently running a hands through his hair that managed to get tangled beyond smoothing down. 

"No." Gerard says, his voice sounds just as fucked as he looks and feels, laying there open and empty with all of his scars exposed for once, with Frank still breathing hard right beside him and feeling like a fucking space heater. 

"Fuck," Frank says bitterly, "Me either." 

He sighs, finds the energy to slide down onto his back and go limp, and he's sure he couldn't move again if he wanted to, but at least he doesn't feel like jumping out of his bruised and scratched skin anymore. 

"I can't stay here, in this fucking apartment." Gerard says quietly. He's looking at a blank ceiling even though behind his eyes memories of when Frank was new play out. When Frank was his brand new, exciting teacher and Gerard could sneak over for some kind of childish thrill. It felt like a fucking scandal. And now he's trapped. 

"I don't know what changed." He says, "I want something new again, and to just – move on. Not be trapped. Get out of this rut." 

"Yeah," Frank hums, he lazily swats at the bedside table and feels for his lighter and pack of cigarettes, way too aware he's getting more dependent on them than he's comfortable with. "Too many bad memories. It's in the fucking air. Like it's haunted or something." 

Frank lights a cigarette in his mouth, and hands it over to Gerard before he lights his own, his eye is drawn to the little glowing orange tip and the flame, like a moth with an addiction to nicotine. 

"Can we just move?" Gerard asks. 

"I want to so bad." Frank says. "Back to New Jersey, maybe." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah," Frank says quietly. He's dropping ashes everywhere, on himself, but it doesn't matter. He's a wreck anyway. "I miss it. You could still go to college in New York, if you wanted to." 

"God," Gerard whines, "You're making me more fucking anxious to leave than before. We could." He shifts to face Frank, frowning in the dark, "We really could just move, all we'd leave behind is just this place and some rent." 

"I want to." Frank stresses again, "What about your parents and Mikey?" 

"You know I don't give a shit about my parents anymore." Gerard says, "And I'll see Mikey as much as I ever would. I wish we could leave tonight." 

Frank laughs a little then, "I would if we could." But Gerard can hear the honesty and hurt in his voice even past the fading smile. "We'll start looking at places, alright? This week." 

Gerard nods, and reaches over Frank to stretch his arm to the ashtray on the table to put the cigarette out, and then he just stays there, pressed against Frank's cold chest from dried sweat. 

"Are you pissed at me?" Gerard asks, "Because of everything I've done?" 

"No." Frank says bluntly. "You didn't try to kill yourself to fucking spite me or whatever, how selfish would I have to be for me to be pissed at you?" 

"It fucked up your mental health." Gerard counters. 

"Well, it's over now." Frank says, "And we're moving. It's in the past, all that jazz. I'm not mad." 

Frank sticks to his word, and gears get set in motion to leave, continue on, try to fucking live again. He plays guitar more lately, Gerard hears him humming new melodies from the other room, and he's got it lined up to see a therapist regularly again when they move. 

Gerard starts researching colleges and thinking long and hard about what he's gonna go into, and takes seriously the idea of getting a job. 

But everything depends on the other, if one thing falls through the whole structure may collapse – which seems less possible given the fact they're starting from rock bottom. 

**AUGUST**

From one city to another, from an apartment to a townhouse. 

Frank was gonna stay behind to deal with getting the apartment out of his hands and take a second car-full of stuff they owned, Gerard went ahead and hauled the first load with him to New Jersey, to the townhouse they decided on together and visited for the first time last week – but first he swung by his old house, where his mom's car was parked in the driveway and he wondered what she ended up doing with the basement. 

Then he drove by the old dance studio, still in business, still at the top of its game, and he didn't cry. It's not like he was in a hurry, and he had the time to find a parking garage and park on the top level for a few minutes, what felt like hours if he hadn't had the time in the dashboard. 

Gerard props on the hood of his car, looking at the fucking city. It won't be the last time, but looking at it's different now, and in a way it will be the last time. He loves this city even if it is time to go, say goodbye to it, and he doesn't know how long that goodbye will be for, and it doesn't seem to matter. 

That, and yesterday still heavy in his mind when he tried to stand in fifth position and pique, push him over the edge to tears. The movement was so unnatural, his muscles were contracted and unused and good posture was, for once, difficult, and uncomfortable, and the turn-out hurt. 

The wind blows his hair and with tears in his eyes, it finally hits him that it's all over, for good. 

The sun is setting and tinting the sky orange when Gerard gets to their new house alone, turning the key in the knob and feeling like a bona fide grown up when he swings the door open and walks in to flick on the lights. 

He glances around, from the narrow staircase in front of him to the living room on the left and kitchen behind it and a laundry room tucked back there too, all a completely empty space so far. A blank canvas with potential, same for the upstairs bedroom, taking up the whole floor except the bathroom and another empty room on the right. Gerard has plans to put a desk in there. 

"Home sweet fucking home." He mutters, but he's already warming up to the idea of spending the next chapters of his life right where he is, even if nothing will magically get better over night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the rewrite, should the parents be renamed as the irl Ways' parents? the original reason they're OCs is because I had doubts about writing irl people as abusive, but I've seen it done a lot since then and it's not weird at all. Thoughts? anyway let me know what you think of the chapter.


	56. New Jersey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the first half of the entire chapter I was going to post when it was done but hey with the impending doom of net neutrality, figured I should get the ball rolling.. 
> 
> (( https://www.battleforthenet.com/ <\-- you should go there ))

In some ways, Frank will miss this apartment, in that it was tangible independence and he spent some of his happiest times there, but in most ways, he won't miss it. Frank knows if they stayed here a month longer it'd be at the cost of their sanity or relationship, or lives.

So fuck it.

Frank's not looking back.

When the door latches closed by Frank's hand for the last time and he's pulling out of the parking garage, it's like there should be way more closure, but there's not, and he doesn't care. His mind is on autopilot on the way _home_ and it's almost cathartic.

His mind and the sky are one in the same, cloudy until the sun sets and he crosses into New Jersey, then it gets clearer, and Frank can see stars in the sky for the first time in a long time.

And then he parks in a driveway. _Their_ driveway, and Frank totally should not be smiling so fucking giddy at two little words, but he is, cause it's _theirs_ , and they did it together, and if he weren't so proud of it he'd gag for being _that_ couple.

"Hey," Frank says into the house when he gets the door open – the lights are off, there are weird box-shaped shadows on the floor until his eyes adjust, then they become actual boxes. "I'm here."

He keeps his voice soft though just in case Gerard is asleep. The living room off to the left is empty other than the stacks of boxes and scattered tissue paper and random junk they packed. It's too dark to make out anything in the kitchen beyond the living room, and Frank very gingerly closes the door, and slinks up the stairs in front of him without even making the rail creak.

Frank almost eats the carpet when he barely dodges a couple more boxes up stairs, and he suppresses a, " _Shit!_ " in time to look up and see Gerard asleep on the air mattress where the bed will probably go – under the window at the front of the room. 

Frank gets hit with a new, fuzzy feeling in his chest.

The lamp on the floor plugged into the outlet is still glowing pale yellow on Gerard's face and the abandoned sketchbook and pencils. Frank's like a ghost because he tries to be so quiet when he tiptoes over to close the sketchbook and round the pencils up with it. Gerard's snoring softly and Frank catches himself drifting off dreamily still sitting on the floor, just watching him and being content with how things are now.

But then Gerard stretches a little and barely wakes up enough to see Frank, all peaceful and sleepy and Frank's pretty peaceful himself – which is something that simultaneously makes him feel like he's reached nirvana _and_ surprises the shit out of him.

Frank smiles softly and says, "Hey."

"Hey, Frank." Gerard says. His voice is as distant as Frank was on the drive here, but sleepier, and Frank catches his hand in his own. "Sorry I fell asleep. I tried to stay up."

"That's okay, baby." Frank gives his hand a squeeze and his eyes are already closed again.

"What time is it?"

Frank's tone is still hushed and calm when he says, "It's almost midnight." He strokes his thumb over Gerard's hand in feather light touches, distracted in the best way possible. And it's fucking quiet, it even takes a second to be conscious of the fact that there aren't any car horns or sirens.

"Oh."

"You should go back to sleep." Frank says, and the sound of his voice is already lulling Gerard back to sleep on its own. He hides his face into the pillow and Frank becomes aware of his own small smile.

"Mmhmm." He hums, "I put your toothbrush in the bathroom."

And Frank props his chin on his free hand and says, "Yeah? Thank you."

"And I tried to hang some clothes but," Gerard yawns, "I couldn't find many hangers, and, your books are downstairs. And I put the silverware away," And Frank can tell he's still talking but he's totally checked out, "Got all the boxes out of the car."

And Frank's like, still watching him adoringly even though that was probably the last intelligible thought Gerard's gonna have tonight. Frank gives his hand another squeeze at that before he lets go, and thinks, brushing his teeth _does_ sound like a pretty kick ass idea about now.

So he turns the lamp off and gently kisses Gerard's cheek, and not very eloquently says, "Love you, Frank."

"I love you too, baby."

And that's maybe the first time Frank can say his heart is actually full, except the times when it was full of pain and desperation. But this type of full is even fuller, somehow.

When Frank's at the sink brushing his teeth, it feels fucking good – like it's the cleanest his teeth have ever been in his life. And he lazily strips off his jeans and gets in bed, and it's maybe the softest the sheets have ever felt. 

It's like a brand new adventure and he's ten years younger, and maybe he can feel real again or at least feel something at all. Because right now he's feeling more okay than he has in a long time. Maybe it's a placebo because he's in a new place – but he'll fucking take it, he'll believe anything if it keeps him feeling this new and free. It's the death of a heated, angry summer, and the cold can put the fire out, and Frank can shovel dirt onto the flames as well as bury himself under cozy sweaters and blankets and hold his best friend to keep warm.

It sinks in when he's looking out the window to the neighborhood that they did this. They moved. It's real. It happened. And his heart definitely grows a size big enough to put the Grinch to shame. 

Being independent together makes Frank feel like him and Gerard and just his life in general are more official somehow. More important. But it's not do or die anymore.

Frank and Gerard are washed in blue and shadows and for once, Frank has his shit together.

And it's like the best sleep he's ever had.

*

Somehow they're both awake at the same time the next morning, and it probably has to do with the raging sunlight and lack of blinds or curtains – but other than that it's pretty weird. Cause Gerard's so obviously trying to be happy, like dolefullness under a brave face under lethargy and it makes Frank feel fucking unhelpful even if this _is_ the happiest he's been in months.

And Frank tries to give little reassuring smiles, like when they're both trying to brush their teeth at the same time and Frank gently hip checks Gerard, who just looks at him with something glum behind his eyes like a nonverbal 'I see what you're doing but we both know it's not fucking working.'

It's the same way in the kitchen when Gerard's like, looming over the coffee maker, because of course that's the first thing that gets unpacked if either of them wanna be awake longer than five minutes, and Frank just comes up behind him to gently hold him, press his face into his shoulder and just breathe him in while the coffee maker percolates agonizingly slowly.

He kinda glances to the living room that's still in the same state as the night before and comes to the realization that they've still gotta unpack his car today and get some furniture _pronto_ cause the house is fucking _empty_ , but that's just a perk of being a hasty motherfucker.

"You're happy today." Gerard points out, and he's totally right.

And they have to sit on the fucking floor because, no furniture. And they use an upturned empty box for a makeshift table, and it's awesome, and completely domestic and it actually makes Frank blink a little harder to ward off any unwanted outpouring of emotion, because this is _good_. Because he's gonna look back at this memory and cry for real one day.

He's gotta scoot a little closer to Gerard just so he can kiss him and rest his head on his shoulder.

*

Somehow that first morning turns into several mornings.

And after a few several mornings they've got weird, mismatched kitchen chairs and a table, then a mismatched loveseat and couch and coffee table, but it's fine because it looks totally trendy – and there's a real bed upstairs and slowly but surely their shit is getting organized and put where it belongs and it's all good enough for the time being, because now they leave their new house and kiss goodbye on the way to job interviews.

And the mornings turn into a week and Frank decides to celebrate that by giving Gerard a bouqet of roses. And he cries when Frank gives them to him because he doesn't have anything to give back to him, and Gerard doesn't let go of Frank all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know what you think


	57. New Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's up

In some ways, Frank will miss this apartment, in that it was tangible independence and he spent some of his happiest times there, but in most ways, he won't miss it. Frank knows if they stayed here a month longer it'd be at the cost of their sanity or relationship, or lives.

So fuck it.

Frank's not looking back.

When the door latches closed by Frank's hand for the last time and he's pulling out of the parking garage, it's like there should be way more closure, but there's not, and he doesn't care. His mind is on autopilot on the way _home_ and it's almost cathartic.

His mind and the sky are one in the same, cloudy until the sun sets and he crosses into New Jersey, then it gets clearer, and Frank can see stars in the sky for the first time in a long time.

And then he parks in a driveway. _Their_ driveway, and Frank totally should not be smiling so fucking giddy at two little words, but he is, cause it's _theirs_ , and they did it together, and if he weren't so proud of it he'd gag for being _that_ couple.

"Hey," Frank says into the house when he gets the door open – the lights are off, there are weird box-shaped shadows on the floor until his eyes adjust, then they become actual boxes. "I'm here."

He keeps his voice soft though just in case Gerard is asleep. The living room off to the left is empty other than the stacks of boxes and scattered tissue paper and random junk they packed. It's too dark to make out anything in the kitchen beyond this living room, and Frank very gingerly opens the door, and slinks up the stairs in front of him without even making the rail creak.

Frank almost eats the carpet when he barely dodges a couple more boxes up stairs, and he suppresses a, " _Shit!_ " in time to look up and see Gerard asleep on the air mattress where the bed will probably go – under the window at the front of the room. 

Frank gets hit with a new, fuzzy feeling in his chest.

The lamp on the floor plugged into the outlet is still glowing pale yellow on Gerard's face and the abandoned sketchbook and pencils. Frank's like a ghost because he tries to be so quiet when he tiptoes over to close the sketchbook and round the pencils up with it. Gerard's snoring softly and Frank catches himself drifting off dreamily still sitting on the floor, just watching him and being content with how things are now.

But then Gerard stretches a little and barely wakes up enough to see Frank, all peaceful and sleepy and Frank's pretty peaceful himself – which is something that simultaneously makes him feel like he's reached nirvana _and_ surprises the hell out of him.

Frank smiles softly and says, "Hey."

"Hey, Frank." Gerard says. His voice is as distant as Frank was on the drive here, but sleepier, and Frank catches his hand in his own. "Sorry I fell asleep. I tried to stay up."

"That's okay, baby." Frank gives his hand a squeeze and his eyes are already closed again.

"What time is it?"

Frank's tone is still hushed and calm when he says, "It's almost midnight." He strokes his thumb over Gerard's hand in feather light touches, distracted in the best way possible. And it's fucking quiet, it even takes a second to be conscious of the fact that there aren't any car horns or sirens.

"Oh."

"You should go back to sleep." Frank says, and the sound of his voice is already lulling Gerard back to sleep on its own. He hides his face into the pillow and Frank becomes aware of his own small smile.

"Mmhmm." He hums, "I put your toothbrush in the bathroom."

And Frank props his chin on his free hand and says, "Yeah? Thanks."

"And I tried to hang some clothes but," Gerard yawns, "I couldn't find many hangers, and, your books are downstairs. And I put the silverware away," And Frank can tell he's still talking but he's totally checked out, "Got all the boxes out of the car."

And Frank's like, still watching him adoringly even though that was probably the last intelligible thought Gerard's gonna have tonight. Frank gives his hand another squeeze at that before he lets go, and thinks, brushing his teeth _does_ sound like a pretty kick ass idea about now.

So he turns the lamp off and gently kisses Gerard's cheek, who not very eloquently says, "Love you, Frank."

"I love you too, baby."

And that's maybe the first time Frank can say his heart is actually full, except the times when it was full of pain and desperation. But this type of full is even fuller, somehow.

When Frank's at the sink brushing his teeth, it feels fucking good – like it's the cleanest his teeth have ever been in his life. And he lazily strips off his jeans and gets in bed, and it's maybe the softest the sheets have ever felt. 

It's like a brand new adventure and he's ten years younger, and maybe he can feel real again or at least feel something at all. Because right now he's feeling more okay than he has in a long time. Maybe it's a placebo because he's in a new place – but he'll fucking take it, he'll believe anything if it keeps him feeling this new and free. It's the death of a heated, angry summer, and the cold can put the fire out, and Frank can shovel dirt onto the flames as well as bury himself under cozy sweaters and blankets and hold his best friend to keep warm.

It sinks in when he's looking out the window to the neighborhood that they did this. They moved. It's real. It happened. And his heart definitely grows a size big enough to put the Grinch to shame. 

Being independent together makes Frank feel like him and Gerard and just his life in general are more official somehow. More important. But it's not do or die anymore.

Frank and Gerard are washed in blue and shadows and for once, Frank has his shit together.

And it's like the best sleep he's ever had.

*

Somehow they're both awake at the same time the next morning, and it probably has to do with the raging sunlight and lack of blinds or curtains – but other than that it's pretty weird. Cause Gerard's so obviously trying to be happy, like dolefullness under a brave face under lethargy and it makes Frank feel fucking unhelpful even if this _is_ the happiest he's been in months.

And Frank tries to give little reassuring smiles, like when they're both trying to brush their teeth at the same time and Frank gently hip checks Gerard, who just looks at him with something glum behind his eyes like a nonverbal 'I see what you're doing but we both know it's not fucking working.'

It's the same way in the kitchen when Gerard's like, looming over the coffee maker, because of course that's the first thing that gets unpacked if either of them wanna be awake longer than five minutes, and Frank just comes up behind him to gently hold him, press his face into his shoulder and just breathe him in while the coffee maker percolates agonizingly slowly.

He kinda glances to the living room that's still in the same state as the night before and comes to the realization that they've still gotta unpack his car today and get some furniture _pronto_ cause the house is fucking _empty_.

"You're happy today." Gerard points out, and he's totally right.

And they have to sit on the fucking floor because, no furniture. And they use an upturned empty box for a makeshift table, and it's awesome, and completely domestic and it actually makes Frank blink a little harder to ward off any unwanted outpouring of emotion, because this is _good_. Because he's gonna look back at this memory and cry for real one day.

He's gotta scoot a little closer to Gerard just so he can kiss him and rest his head on his shoulder.

*

Somehow that first morning turns into several mornings.

And after a few several mornings they've got weird, mismatched kitchen chairs and a table, then a mismatched loveseat and couch and coffee table, but it's fine because it looks totally trendy – and there's a real bed upstairs and slowly but surely their shit is getting organized and put where it belongs and it's all good enough for the time being, because now they leave their new house and kiss goodbye on the way to job interviews.

And the mornings turn into a week and Frank decides to celebrate that by giving Gerard a bouqet of roses. And he cries when Frank gives them to him because he doesn't have anything to give back to him, and Gerard doesn't let go of Frank all night. And when they fuck, Gerard stays under the covers and keeps his shirt on. Frank doesn't point it out.

It occurs to Frank that other than earlier, Gerard hasn't been crying. That freaks a part of him out, because of the last time he stopped crying – but Frank won't dare ask if he's over it.

Frank looks over to Gerard, who's still turned away and hasn't really moved much since they finished earlier. He's quiet, breathing steadily, peacefully – and Frank quietly gets out of the bed they finally got and creeps downstairs for coffee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got super drunk and took this on and edited some of it sober. there's another half I started on but got too tired and unintelligible so I'm gonna start editing that today I hope. sorry for being gone, I don't have an excuse other than my mental health has been sinking lower and lower into the gutter for like a solid year, but whats new I guess. please let me know what you think of this chapter and the story so far, what you think is coming next, any and everything!

**Author's Note:**

> Keep in mind this is a rough draft of a story, once it's done I'm going to edit it and repost it in one, big chapter.


End file.
